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Kindle Notes & Highlights
Why did I always wear such a burning color as marigold? I once felt like I was being burned alive by my dad, when I was a young teenager. You should see these letters. Now I was always wearing the pelt, the harsh linen pelts of how I fucking felt. You leave because shelter is insufficient. Shelter doesn’t have all kinds of stuff. I’d been dressing like that for a while.
He was asking, I was sure, if he could do something much worse. Most people are so mean. But this must have been really mean, what he wanted to say or do. He wanted a “Yes” to the wrong thing, yes-you-can-ask-me-your-question, but he would take it and use this “Yes” and do something absolutely unspeakable with it, I had no idea what. I could not imagine.
I bled quietlee for a long, long time. I bled until the blood was mar-i-GOLD! I bled until my skin was blue, blue scales. I bled until the scales came OFF! That was a long That was a long That was a very very very very very very long time
I needed it in there, like putting this email into a cage with a tiger, a beast, a martial artist. I couldn’t fight it with my eyes and brain any longer. I needed the heart to just take care of it how I knew it would.”
It was beyond the letter. It was everyone else, he owned them. They mimicked him. He was setting up these conditions for who I was and how I should be looked at, and punished, and I knew nobody was going to be there for me.
