Get out.

Get out! I want you to STOP caring. GET OUT of my room! Out of my HEAD. Out of my LIFE.

You see, dear Mother, without you, nothing would be wrong. I would not be forced to fight the demon in my head so I can go out in a bathing suit with no red lines. I would never have any old scars, either. You know, Mother, life without you caring, without you staring down my back creating slow, painful trails of cold down my neck, it would be easy.

Easy to love my love.
Easy to laugh freely.
Easy to dance in the rain.
Easy to breathe.
Easy to bleed.
Easy to walk.
Easy to..live.


You seem to have caused a schism between all that is easy and all that is difficult.

Now, I find it hard to love her, as we are completely separate when I have no access to my phone or the computer.
It's hard to laugh, too, because I feel guilty that I'm doing something wrong. You know, everything I do is wrong.
I can walk in the rain, I did so just yesterday, but I'm held back. If I show my true colours, say, with a piercing, I'm wrong, again.
It's hard to bleed. Every drop of blood I lose, I know you think of the thousands of drops of blood I've made myself lose.
When I take a walk, the pang in the back of my mind sparks guilt because walking means I'm exercising means I'm not eating means I have an eating disorder.
It.Is.Hard.To.Live. With you, breathing down my neck. With you, holding my heart and head so tightly that I can't love; that I can't LIVE freely.



So STOP caring. Let me LIVE my life on MY OWN.