Broken kites skimming the trees, from above they look like cake- all frosted with those delicious irregular lumps that aunt shouldn’t have put in-Giant brokenness in the sky, with golden wheels and a bent scraggly dead tree- its rider- We found her in the woods, just off tea with Ms Candace and between red and BLUE
when the horrible feelings come, this is where you go.
I live in hell on earth, and I will bring my hell with me. So don’t come closer- its too hot-
How her 20’s gave her confidence and control and a louder voice and better thoughts and depth of feeling- in strands of grief and senses of peace- she could feel it much better now-
yet she is hurt and torn and ripped open raw- bloody hunks of her flesh hang down as strips of her face peel off [all in her mind] as she is jaded and destroyed over and over again –how many times I have been destroyed again and again by myself to come to this point-
we learned to swear was bad and then we learned to swear but now it’s something that saves her in the dark
It’s mostly dark.
THIS tower was surely what that fungus almost became-some crazy extension of her mind. right? maybe she wasn’t real. she was still trapped though. she wanted to be untrapped. She wanted to be free. With whatever came with that– UGGH! Her head hurt again.