23, teacher, vegetable and cat enthuasist, from AUS and living in the UK
Our first fight was when you got sick of my self pity. You were passive aggressive and that made me even more hysteric. The words shot out of my mouth quicker than my brain could create them and that’s when I realised that they must have been there for a while and going foul with age, like a sour lemon sitting in a damp cupboard growing mould.
“I hate you, why won’t you speak, do you not have an opinion? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. Please don’t walk away.”
There were too many words and poorly constructed sentences.
nobody will come running
no one will hear the shots
you are not a wolf
you’re the boy who cried about one.