"I want to talk to you but I don’t know how, and I’m afraid you don’t want to talk to me anymore", a story about my entire existence.
Cease trembling and shaking and gasping
and cursing and find again your core which I am.
Rest from twistedness, distortion, deformations.
For an hour you will be me; that is, the other
half of yourself. The half you lost.
What you burnt, broke, and tore is still
in my hands: I am the keeper of fragile things
and I have kept of you what is indissoluble.
written by Anaïs Nin, from House Of Incest (via violentwavesofemotion)