All I know is that you're so nice

All she was thinking about was how much she didn't want to think about this. How quickly she fell into old habits, how those metaphors of drug addiction came so easily on days like today. She felt a little bit highschool, a little bit younger, like maybe she hadn't learned as much about herself as she thought.

How many times had she had to leave her feelings on rooftops? How many times had she tripped and willed herself to get back up because by god, that's what you're supposed to do. How many times had she whispered in some dark place "This isn't going to exist in the morning," and she had been right. How many times had she quieted the voice inside her that said "Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop."

She told herself feeling something wrong was better than not feeling anything at all.

She's pretty sure she's written this before.

She's been off the stuff for months. No hands, no writing, no kisses. Is that why she hasn't written? Does she have to be wretched with emotion to get anything onto paper? Does poetry only come from being afraid? From being unsure? From being lonely? Does the good prose only come from those drug-addicted places, those metaphors about trucks headed toward her in the street. Does the real, gritty self-expression only come from those rooftops or bedrooms or front porches or that overlook when you were 15 or the backseat of his car or the stairs where he walked away or that house that wasn't finished being built or the rocks or the river or those hundreds of millions of places where whispers were the loudest thing you could hear. All those places where she'd been, where she'd said those things and felt those things that she kicked herself for weeks after feeling.

She's being silly. Some days she loves herself for the way she feels, she loves herself for being so eager to feel, eager to hold, eager to make something out of nothing out of less than nothing

Someone told her once that if they could pick a superpower, it would be to control people's thoughts.

Some days she wants more than anything the power to control her own.