Friday, 20 October 2017
I can't do anything to peel them off, these layers of crusted on misery slop. I walk around stupefied most of the time, dragging my bitterness along for the ride. I never wanted to do anything ever to harm her, but my heart is impenetrable inside this acrimonious armour. Chisel away all you want, you'll never break it, it grows back, all you can do is mould or shape it. I'll make it fit to look at, using a knife, make myself presentable enough to carry on with life.