Responsibility

And it's all her fault. Everything. Always.

Every day she does something she never realised she did. Makes mess and takes the blame, uses everything and takes the blame, breaks things, hurts people take the blame for everything. It's easier than to fight back. Because they fight harder, harsher, better.
She's only young and the weight of the world rest's on ehr shoulders, she's doing handstand's in Australia carry up the entire world in her two tiny palms. Her soft pale hands that have caused so much hurt and mess and hatred inside others towards herself.
Who would've know all those years she was alone she was really doing everything else, really destroying eveyone else's lives by just living hers. By just exsisting and breathing she made theirs so much worse.
The wish she makes eveytime it turns 11:11, to never be born. To run away. To just stop everything. The hurt inside her heart, the hatred she forces into others and the dissapointment inside her saviour. God.
She makes the Monster cry even though it's the Monster that makes her hurt and bleed. She makes the Basilisk feel unworthy even though he put's the bruises on her skin. She makes the Dinosaur angry even though he forces the doubt inside of her head.
He put's it there but it's all her fault.
Fat. Ugly. Useless. Your fault. Stop. Look what you've done. Clean it up. Look what you've done. It's all your fault.
Everything that's ever happened anywhere is her fault.
And she let's those ancient stars and moving waves rest on her weakened shoulders just so she doesn't have to use her voice. Just so she doesn't have to say the words that would disagree and shine the light on her hidden truths.
So she stays quiet. And everything is her fault.
And all her faults are hers and all everyone else's are hers.

Until the day comes when she can shrug her shoulders and watch her world come tumbling down.

And not give a shit.