You're So Easy To Read But The

Life Is Not Like Gloomy Sunday, With A Second Ending When The People Are Disturbed.

I Myself Am Not Afraid Of Ghosts; I Am Afraid Of People.

I Cut Myself Because You Wouldn't Let Me Cry. I Cried Because You Wouldn't Let Me Speak. I Spoke Because You Wouldn't Let Me Shine. I Shone Because I Thought You Loved Me.

I Only Sleep With People I Love, Which Is Why I Have Insomnia.

And, What's More, This 'precious' Body, The Very Same That Is Hooted And Honked At, Demeaned Both In Daily Life As Well As In Ever Existing Form Of Media, Harrassed, Molested, Raped, And, If All That Wasn't Enough, Is Forever Poked And Prodded And Weighed And Constantly Wrong For Eating Too Much, Eating Too Little, A Million Details Which All Point To The Solitary Girl, To Every Solitary Girl, And Say: Destroy Yourself.