A curtain of briars around the bed. Yes, she would like that. I craft it, red petals interweaving in a flowing sheet. Perfect. In my mind, my thorns are not blighted purple things, but the bright green vines of a rosebush. I need to keep building this imaginary house bigger, reinforcing the windows, letting nothing of the outside world in. Taller walls, more vines, more roses—
MY HEART I LOVE HIM SO MUCH BUT ALSO AM SO MAD AT HIM FOR SOME IF THE THINGS HE HAS DONE
