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I think: This girl is motherless. This girl has nothing. Tears stream down her haunted, carved-out face.
That doesn’t sound so bad. Disappearing. Not feeling.
Imagine always wanting something for such a long time,
and suddenly you get it, along with a whole bunch of other information you didn’t even know you were going to need, but it’s all jumbled up,
The absolute worst part is, I don’t even want it anymore, because to get it, I lost the thing I loved most in the world.
It’s the last thing that holds the absolutely true sound of my mom’s voice. Part of me is afraid I might lose that sound inside me.
The world is full of tears, and I’m starting to drown.
Your mother never said anything about what she wanted, and it doesn’t seem right to just guess for her.
A messy life leads to messy decisions.”
As long as I live, I’ll always think that I must finally be cried out, and as long as I live, I’ll always be surprised that somewhere inside me, more tears are being manufactured, because here they come, splashing on the lap of my jeans.
Sometimes you’re so hungry, so thirsty for something to fill you up, you’ve craved it for so long, but when you finally have it, it hurts going down. It’s not a medicine for what ails you. It might just be the thing that is keeping you sick.
