the threads in her head

empty room-

I would like an empty room, to run to.

I dream of it being a white room, not stark cold sterile white, not warm white that is actually a dirty yellow and washed out, but instead, nice glowy white, with daylight drenching the room in a beautiful glow.

every time, no matter how upset I am, no matter how mean or angry or horrible, the beauty and space and love of that room will just envelope me, to fill me up with surprise and wonder somehow.

it'll be a good room to hide in. from other people, for their sakes. I can be hurtful when I'm raging, and raging simply because I'm moody, and moody because of, of...

nothing.

it'll be a good room to hide in, to stop hurting others. but I guess, I guess, there always come a moment that's too late, somehow. somehow.

it's ok. it's ok.

better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

better to have loved and lost than never to have loved (and gained) at all.

pretty pretty white room.