Strange how I hold on to pain. I dispel it throughout my writing and relive nightmares again.
The car was operated from the rear left wheel. It was a whole mini car as a stand-alone piece.
I remember every word.
Images are too vivid in my mind.
It’s the fear I felt at the time, the emotional hurt.
When I know you’re a liar, lying to me right now.
Yet, I give you time and attention.
I hear my instinct saying, ‘Unique! What the fuck are you doing? Why are you bothering? You know he’s mentally screwing YOU!’
I love your voice, loved your voice, I adored the attention.
I accepted your lies, for nanoscopic specks of affection.
The Mindgame was a game played by two.
You believed I believed you and I knew the truth.