in all honesty, im inclined to be more than a bit 'get out of my head?!' about this?
everything you've written thus far has been resonant and to a consistently intense degree at that, but in particular on this occasion i'm reeling because... i dunno, it's simultaneously baffling and brilliant when an author articulates an experience you'd long given up on expressing eloquently in words.
and what words at that, my goodness!
He moves in that way of beautifully ugly creatures, slow and unsure and defensive. You’ve never felt anything so good. He pushes you down, climbs over you and steals your breath. You wonder why you’re the one feeling like a thief.
The bruises don’t fade for three days.
++
A crease in the pillow next to you is your only companion. You think you might be glad for it. Your memory is hazy, blinks and stutters of skin and lips.
you're afforded such a stark sense of the characters in each of the above instances. they each amount to such a complete experience in themselves. evoke vivid images and encourage immediately accessible emotional responses. as a reader you see and more than that you feel. stunning.
There is an eyelash stuck to your finger. It is not your own.
this i've singled out because i read and re-read and re-read it SO many times. it's short and succinct but there's so much implied in so few words and the words themselves are beautiful. i'm absolutely in love. with a sentence. it's pain, but it's pretty. i can't even adequately express my appreciation.
You think you see him at one point, but it’s okay, you tell yourself. It’s just an angel. You lie on the floor and, even as your eyelids flutter in real time, you think that dying isn’t all that different from living.
there's actually nothing i can say about this, because it's self-evaluating, if that's even the right term i'm not sure, but yeah; nonethless, what i'm getting at: it's true. plain and pure and simple and sure, as the truth so often is.
everything you've written thus far has been resonant and to a consistently intense degree at that, but in particular on this occasion i'm reeling because... i dunno, it's simultaneously baffling and brilliant when an author articulates an experience you'd long given up on expressing eloquently in words.
and what words at that, my goodness!
He moves in that way of beautifully ugly creatures, slow and unsure and defensive. You’ve never felt anything so good. He pushes you down, climbs over you and steals your breath. You wonder why you’re the one feeling like a thief.
The bruises don’t fade for three days.
++
A crease in the pillow next to you is your only companion. You think you might be glad for it. Your memory is hazy, blinks and stutters of skin and lips.
you're afforded such a stark sense of the characters in each of the above instances. they each amount to such a complete experience in themselves. evoke vivid images and encourage immediately accessible emotional responses. as a reader you see and more than that you feel. stunning.
There is an eyelash stuck to your finger. It is not your own.
this i've singled out because i read and re-read and re-read it SO many times. it's short and succinct but there's so much implied in so few words and the words themselves are beautiful. i'm absolutely in love. with a sentence. it's pain, but it's pretty. i can't even adequately express my appreciation.
You think you see him at one point, but it’s okay, you tell yourself. It’s just an angel. You lie on the floor and, even as your eyelids flutter in real time, you think that dying isn’t all that different from living.
there's actually nothing i can say about this, because it's self-evaluating, if that's even the right term i'm not sure, but yeah; nonethless, what i'm getting at: it's true. plain and pure and simple and sure, as the truth so often is.
sarah. you know, yeah? ♥
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