The bad days are like this -
If love were a body, with bravery for bones and muscles moved by trust, I would be nothing but a motionless skin - the skin of a lion, perhaps, but an empty skin, nonetheless.
"Blink once if you want me. Twice if you don't."
"She can't, silly boy. Her eyes are made of glass."
I'm all talk, kids. All talk.
There's nothin' but a scared little girl here.
"Love" has become synonymous with "safe", and I don't know if that's possible anymore.
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2 comments:
Oh sweetie. You have such a beautiful way of capturing sowrrow.
body love you have such a strength and trust as you write these words. Send warm love through your' self for us tonight
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