I wanted the past to go away, I wanted
to leave it, like another country; I wanted
my life to close, and open
like a hinge, like a wing, like the part of the song
where it falls
down over the rocks: an explosion, a discovery;
to hurry into the work of my life; I wanted to know,
whoever I was, I was
for a little while.
You know what I hate? When people get pissed off when you tell them you don’t want them to touch you. Like excuse me, I don’t actually want you to touch my arm. I don’t want a hug right now. I don’t give a shit if you’re family. I don’t care if the phrase “I don’t want to be touched” puts you off. Just don’t fucking touch me.
|YOLO:||you only live online|