“How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on, when in your heart you begin to understand there is no going back? There are some things time cannot mend. Some hurts that go too deep, that have taken hold.”
and if a double decker bus crashes into us, to die by your side is such a heavenly way to die. and if a ten tonne truck kills the both of us, to die by your side, well the pleasure - the privilege is mine.
i wish i had the way with words i used to. i used to feel as though, under my skin - that tiny, red layer under your skin - words just coiled and sped around my body. my arms had hidden sleeves made of everything that had struck me, everything that was beautiful. these days i feel angry, and my blood boils constantly. i needed that armour to keep me safe. from myself/from everybody else/from everything. i am a tiny vessel with no defence.