Well, that was ironic. (Alanis, take note.) It was when Katchoo wasn't around Francine that she felt like she could fall apart and turn into dust.
This mask I wear pretends I'm here And hides me from the awful fear That you might find the heart of me And take that too, beneath the trees.
Why did that poem she'd written three years ago come to mind all of a sudden?
And, when she was around Francine, was when she was most afraid of being seen as a monster. Of course at the moment she was around Francine and her arms were starting to lose feeling. Not that she cared.
"Not going to happen, Francine," she said firmly -- and lamely, she thought, but what else could she say?
no subject
This mask I wear pretends I'm here
And hides me from the awful fear
That you might find the heart of me
And take that too, beneath the trees.
Why did that poem she'd written three years ago come to mind all of a sudden?
And, when she was around Francine, was when she was most afraid of being seen as a monster. Of course at the moment she was around Francine and her arms were starting to lose feeling. Not that she cared.
"Not going to happen, Francine," she said firmly -- and lamely, she thought, but what else could she say?