kind of a mention of self harm wounds in the first paragraph please be safe darlings // heavy mentions of depression and suicide (throughout this whole chapter and book probably)
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i jump on the train and count three different ways how i could kill myself right this fucking second. there is no service underground and i cant breathe, a pair of hands crawl up from under my skin and wrap themselves around me like a forever 21 chocker. i stay forever 13 with slits down my wrists like beady bracelets kids rip apart the way i rip the veins out my flesh.

i miss my boyfriend so much i rip my eyes out of their sockets and put them in his pocket. we fuck on tour buses and on new york fashion week runways.

nyfw is nsfw / tour is sponsored by gatorade and colgate / our baby a 3 inch wide paperback.

i miss my boyfriend so much i vomit my insides on sidewalks, (i hope i stay pretty), i rip my heart out with tweezers and i burn my hand on stoves like all american dolls. i bleed in hues of pink and i cough out high end glitter by marc jacobs for marc jacobs and his housewives (i hope i stay boujee).

i hope my boyfriend still loves me. i hope my mother calls me, i hope my brother phones me, i hope he chases storms and marries twig bitches in giorgio armani. i hope father slaps me one across the cheek, makes me vomit teeth for 3 weeks everytime i miss my boyfriend. i hope fenty beauty puts me on their pr list, i hope i model for fendi (i look just like the skeletons in my closet; i'm too depressed to be fat)

i get married on train tracks, shit this is my stop. (i'm still alive).