- anonymous.
you’re very kind, and i really appreciate where your words are coming from. it’s just, that’s part of the fear. that although there’ll be people and times to distract me, maybe that’s all they’ll do. distract. you know? i want to be free.
- anonymous.
me. this thing inside me that i can’t diminish.
- anonymous.
being like this, suffering, for the rest of my interminable life. that’s what i fear most.
- anonymous.
both or neither. i think it’s necessary. but maybe i’m just saying that because i cry a lot and want to believe it’s productive.
“if a writer falls in love with you, you never die.”
sat on the edge of your bed, i bring my naked knees into my chest and play my fingers through my red-tipped toes. are you bored of me? i ask in a voice i haven’t heard for years. you study me, shake your head, frown. of course not, you admonish, holding your hand out, flicking the ash off your cigarette. i feel like a troubled child. come here.