Dear Sara,
This is the beginning of the end of your heartache.
You need to pay attention and remember your past. The key to now is in the past. Fuck the naysayers who tell us not to hold on too dearly to that which has gone before. We are nothing but ghosts. Born and reborn accumulating into the people we are now like snow falling on snow falling on snow. Each new blanket covers the blemishes, the cat piss, the blood, the broken hearts, of the last.
Someday my blues will cover the earth (just like the aforementioned snow).
His name is asleep.
It’s time for bed.
Think about what I said.
Remember everything.
Remember that phrase you muttered under your breath.
Hog butcher, soul mate.
Get out of my room.
Stop pumping my blood. That blood is mine. You can’t touch it anymore.
Mother says I can’t play with you anymore.
get out.
