My mom and little brother joke about the fact that I cut and the scars, “little miss cutter”. I laugh but inside I’m dying. My brother pulls the “at least I don’t cut myself” every time we argue. He’s the one that called for help when I tried to end the pain. And it suddenly turned into a big joke. I try to put on a smile and play along but crying inside.
911 hey i hate to be “that guy” but i glued myself to the ceiling again
there’s too many labels for sexuality like fuck just go for who you like