(tw:self harm mention) I'm just the oldest child. I really want to say I would do it again and again but he took my childhood like them taking the feeling of innocence out of the child that is supposed to be dancing, singing, laughing and panting but it's doing the weeks old dirty dishes in the sink. Not just the dishes are sinking but the blades in my skin by the hurtful realization that I won't get anything back. Back on track realizing I threw away my childhood away for him and never get back what I threw away. Realizing he's too young to understand, too old to teach him. Realizing the urge is blood over my skin doesn't bring back the memories. He sure saw the scars, darts glances over my arms in summer, mutter what a ridiculous long hoodie I wear. Probably unaware that he's the reason. I'm not saying it's his fault but late night homework that isn't mine and calls from teachers that don't teach me, I agree it was my choice as a child wanting the best but it wasn't my responsibility either. Neither the scars will faint. It's too late, lead too deep take my mind. I planned my land around him walking on sand in second hand motherland.