Death Is My Lover And

Here I Am And There Is My Body Dancing On Glass In Accident Time Where There Are No Accidents You Have No Choice The Choice Comes After

Your Hair Is An Act Of God.

I Crave White On White And Black, But My Thoughts Race In Glorious Technicolour, Prodding Me Awake, Whipping Away The Warm Blanket Of Invisibility Every Time It Sears To Smother My Mind In Nothing.

If You Died It Would Be Like My Bones Had Been Removed. No One Would Know Why, But I Would Collapse.

A Small Girl Became Increasingly Paralysed By Her Parents' Frequently Violent Rows. Sometimes She Would Spend Hours Standing Completely Still In The Toilet, Simply Because That Was Where She Happened To Be When The Fight Began. Finally, In Moments Of Calm, She Would Take Bottles Of Milk From The Fridge Or Doorstep And Leave Them In Places Where She May Later Become Trapped. Her Parents Were Unable To Understand Why They Found Bottles Of Sour Milk In Every Room In The House.