Spring Cleaning

Every few days I take a spade, dig deep in my chest and throw everything out.
Dump the carcass of my emaciated feelings.

It will stop hurting if I do it more often.
Same goes for writing.

I want everything the world seemed to promise me when I was a little girl, and some more. 

Solitude

The lesser I associate with other people the lesser terrified I am of myself.