#and yes i owe this theme to los dos fridas

[hotmonkeelove]

made in picrew

Last one for today, I promise! The two halves of myself; the wounded girl of my depression, and the (self-reinvented) prettier, highly ambitious, much more likable and happy woman of my hypomanias. I have seen myself like this for ages now. The broken self holds me fast, despite my attempts to rid myself of her.

There is one liberty I have taken, and that is is my colour-changing hazel eyes. They used to be brown more often when I was little, typically appearing green when I cried. (It's rather unsettling to hear, "You have such pretty green eyes," when one is a traumatised child in tears.) They went permanently green in middle school, with the onset of my manic-depression (announcing that I was now broken). I only made them brown here to hark back to the happier, more innocent spots of my early youth.

All that is to say, I need to finish my poetry manuscript.