You ask of which I am most afeart, the rumbling tumblings of the troll beneath the bridge or the tinkering favours of an eccentric fairy godmother. Alas, it is the marzipan crumbs of inspiration leading me down the brambled garden path which most unsettle me; the ink that does not write; the unpainted page with not a gingerbread house...in sight.
‘If you ever find yourself in the wrong story, leave.’ - Mo Willems, Goldilocks and the Three Dinosaurs.
Nothing changes no matter how you try. Change your perspective... see it from another view they say. They must not know in the world I'm a slave to stay. Nothing changes, nothing gets better, just let me die one day soon, and when I try to see it out but it didn't go as planned and I'm still barely alive, do me a favour and walk on by so that death may shortly take me away. Thank you.
Nothing does. Not for me. I'm tired and I'm exhausted. Seeing others mistreated and I have no way to make it stop. Not can I stop the injustice to me. Is it too much to wish to have your hair done at least once a year or 2, is it too much to have a pretty yard to gaze at the beautiful buttterfies and birds, is it too much to expect for your husband to touch to in a way a man that touches her to make her feel like a woman more than every 7 or 8 months. I give up or I want to but got to get the courage and knowledge to do it right.