the labrynth

I wish that food wasn't half of what I think about. I wish that I didn't always have to bite my tongue on the words "I'm sorry". I wish my perception of reality matched up with everybody else. I wish I had another skin tone. I wish enough things that I could choke on them.

Boy said to me when the topic of my step mother briefly came up that he wished he knew me better. as if. I don't want him to know this mess of a person. I can't let him in before I sort myself out. or anyone for that matter. So when he told me with sincerity he wouldn't ever hurt me, I didn't answer. I just kissed him goodnight.