But I can run. Run. And I have been running. Running from the places that remind me of her. Running from the things that remind me of her. Just looking ahead always, and running. Running. Running till I have nowhere to run from myself. My memories. My dreams.

Because there is love, there is pain. I may be dead, but I'm still hurting.

One day I will fall apart. My hands dragging my arms, they crawling away. My feet with a hop and another hop, taking my legs away. My neck severed. My ears dropped off. Everything. Just broken apart.

And maybe, maybe I will then know which part of me is me. The head? Or the heart?

I'm tired piggy-backing myself. Sometimes I really would like to put myself down for a rest. And maybe we can exchange role. I can piggy-back me.

Now I take turns piggy-backing myself. Someone has to do the walking.

One day I will fall apart. Will I tell me then, which part am I? The head? Or the heart?

there can be nothing left standing up nothing nothing smash it smash it i say go on go smash it and all the rage trapped down the spine yelling screaming and i say smash it and i smash it and smash that and smash this arghhhhhharhghhh and everything everything everything smashed!
exploded. gone. pieces.

stop.

Stop!

STOP!

I don't know. I don't know where to start. Where to start fixing myself up whole again. To be ready. To be ready to be smashed again.