and you wonder why your daughter feels like shit.
i hope you don't ever have to understand.
see,
you don't know a fucking thing
and it's not your fault.
it's mine.
i don't want you to know.
know that your daughter,
well,
she's going insane.
and bones and bruises and cuts and blood
isn't pretty.
but see,
see, that's all she's got to make herself whole again.
fuck.
i'm messing this up.
it's this:
you wonder why your daughter feels like shit
and you wonder why she is so screwed up
screwed up to the point she bleeds and screams
and you wonder why, oh why did we deserve this?
why is this happening to us?
you fucking morons.
and you wonder why your daughter can't stand your touch.
have you wondered lately?
well, she can't.
that's enough for one day.