Promises. To live a life without fear. To sing at the top of her lungs. To dance all night. To love with complete abandon. To freak out over the small things. To have the courage to do that which she could never do.

Because. She is afraid of everyone and everything, but that’s a bad thing. She likes to make up words as she goes, and pretends the shampoo is a mic. She can dance all night, she just cannot dance. The small things: Cartoons, cake, movie quotes, chocolate fudge cake, cartoons. To leave. She wants to see things.


And love. It’s part fear, that she’s incapable, that she can’t and nobody will. And part Freud, because fuck him and fuck her father. And part sacrifice, no one deserves this drama.


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