look at my reflection. The permanent ink sprawled under my ribs is a reminder of temporary people. My eyes look more prominent than usual, displaying my pain. The green has faded, and the grey is more pronounced, making them look lifeless. My hair is flat, overgrown, and tangled, so different from how it used to be. Running my fingers over my cheeks, I realise how sunken, sullen, and colourless they are. My cheeks used to be flushed and ached from smiling and laughing. My lips are chapped and set into a frown. I look like a corpse. Who is this girl? She looks sad, broken and just hollow. Is
...more
