Monday, February 25, 2019 - Sacramento, CA
Drop the needle,
I'm not sure where I am. I'm almost terrified to even ask. I'm working but I've become complacent in the idea of just enough. I'm not the woman that I envisioned for myself. Hell, I'm not the woman I thought I would be yesterday, let alone today. I'm finding myself more lost that I can remember ever being.
I feel like I'm not the one calling the shots. It's like someone else is moving my smile into place. My body has adapted to the outside world and almost refuses to let it see anything beyond my tattooed skin, and even that's too close for comfort. Why does she hate me?