tender hearts still beat.

a love letter to the ones fighting to keep their softness alive

for much of my life, i’ve suffered at the hands of the cruel, the callous, the mean and the wicked. at one point in my life, i became them because it’s what i thought would make it all stop — the cruelty, the callousness, the meanness, the wickedness.

it was the most primal and primary form of assimilation — f i could change my very nature, corrupt myself to be like the ‘other’, then i will not be harmed. i will be safe. they will see that we are the same, and i’d be free from harm.

what a huge crock of fucking shit that was lmao.