Chubby cheeksThats how all of it started. Thats how my story began. The story that  I wrote myself, not on paper. But on my skin, on my hands and thighs, on my mind, on my soul, where no one can see them. Because they dont deserve to. The wounds, the cuts, the scars, they are my masterpiece. The evidence of my existence. They show that although Im struggling, I have survived.