Cheerleaders scream wildly and no one can hear me. There is substance to my love. I cannot say enough, cannot purge enough, cannot let you out. I cannot wound you. I will not wound myself.
Truth is evasive and powerless.
My storm blows over. You refuse to take it into you, and I am not proud. You are a part of my pattern. A scientific experiment. I am researching my own life, forever hoping for a man to prove me wrong.