“I remember every lash, every punch every kick, every weapon that has ever pierced my skin. I know exactly where the marks should be, where they flayed me, ripped off my nails, sold me to be used, all because they could. You won’t see any of that written across here,” I tell her as I lift my arm and run my hand over its smooth surface. “But it was carved in here.” I press my palm to my chest, just over my heart
omg
— Jul 27, 2026 06:26AM
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