writhe klairchen As you stabbed me in the back, I knew that I would still be here. The pain was tangable and manageable. I writhed in agony for awhile, but it felt logical and good. The wound would heal, and I'd have a pretty scar to show in the future when my words became unsufficient. It would be a story to tell. But ah, when you stabbed me in the heart, that was a different story. Oh, I writhed in pain yes. I could never touch it or manage it. The wound was much too deep. And the resulting twisting and turning sent me in the opposite direction I was already heading. It put me in the place where you thought I should be. Perhaps I should have seen it coming. Perhaps I should never have trusted that you would have a bandaid. 000829 ... . . 030918 what's it to you? who go blather from