Mom left a book on "healing your inner child" on my bed. Thanks, but I don't need therapy. I need my throat fucked until I can't speak and my ass filled until I can't sit straight. Funny how the only time my brain shuts up is when I'm being used so hard I forget who abandoned me. Sometimes I wonder if letting someone own every hole in my body is just a fucked-up way of making sure they can't leave anything behind.