When he says you’re beautiful deny it.

Do not be defiant and tell your mother that organized religion isn’t for you and you won’t be going to church anymore.

Read whenever you can, find yourself beneath a books pages to mask the musk of the unsatisfactory world around you.

Sing. Sing loud and sing wrong. Belt out the words your teeth won’t let you say.

When he says you’re beautiful deny it.

When he presses his lips against your lips, hard, fight.

When he sets you on your knees ever so carefully, reckelessly jump and run, run as fast as you can until your lungs give out and then run some more.

Whn you burn your house down in third grade, don’t run.

 Stay.

 Let the flames you love so much , burn the scars dirt and sins off your body.

 Let the flames scavenger through you’re your insides plucking out the invaders and light them up and watch the ashes fall gently to your toes.

 When he says you’re beautiful deny it.

When girls at school make fun of you for having short hair laugh and ask them how real they can be if their hair isn’t

Don’t cut because it hurts not to. Don’t cut because you can hear your veins taunting you under their shield known as skin.

These are to help.

These are to make you see the light at the end of the tunnel.

To know and to always believe that there’s someone holding your hand.

Someone pulling the cover over you at night.

 Someone starting your heart every day over and over and over again.

You must learn that it seems bad for .23678 seconds before you find a reason to live.

You must learn to put things behind you.

You must learn to realize that there’s nothing you can do about it.

And when he says you’re beautiful deny him.