Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones but My Soul is Trapped in a Fleshcage

Goth girl realizes that her soul is trapped in a fleshcage.

You can make fun of my checkered Vans, my sideswept hair, my eyeliner, my studded belts, my bangs, my gauges, my lip ring, my Nightmare Before Christmas shirt, my skinny jeans, my fingerless gloves, and My Chemical Romance. None of that matters. I’ve come to realize sticks and stones may break my bones but my soul is trapped in a fleshcage.

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