Finally, in a low whisper, he said, ‘I think I might be a terrible person.’ For a split second I believed him - I thought he was about to confess a crime, maybe a murder.
Then “I realized that we all think we might be terrible people. But we only reveal this before asking someone to love us. It is a kind of undressing.”
“Trauma can feel like living in a haunted house. You live between the worlds of dead and alive, where regular rules don’t apply. Furniture moves, ghosts of dead children walk through the halls, and it’s nearly impossible to leave, which creates a self-feeding loop of fear.”
mary shelley writing about a monster rejected and abandoned by its creator and dedicating it to her own father i need to smoke a blunt with her i need to give her head
only time ive ever felt loved was when i was eating a red berry parfait and walking to the library but a girl ran smack into me getting us both covered in berries then she grabbed my hand and said “ill never be sorry enough, but you look so beautiful” and she ran away and i just have to live w this empty hole where my heart lay
in that moment i really was ready to do any thing if she had held onto my hand and ran in to traffic i wouldve followed like a lost puppy smeared in red sugar entranced as persephone was to the pomegranate i wouldve died right there with out a second thought and i couldnt even fault her for beguiling me so, in that moment, love was so easy ; it was blameless
