my heart is a fiery pomegranate (_remains) wrote,
my heart is a fiery pomegranate

(I have to start expressing myself more and more and more. Otherwise I'm going to go mad, or kill myself on purpose or accidentally. Not being suicidal doesn't mean a damn thing when you're acting out in ways that can get you killed instead.)

When your life is nothing but a quilt of horrors, is there a point in explaining one square? Or a hole in the pattern, the place where the sewing machine quit working when it realized you'd unravel the thread faster than it could keep up. There was a moment when I considered patching it by hand, stitch by shaky stitch, but again I dropped the needle. Gave myself a puncture wound instead.

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