[ She could not be more wounded, more ripped open. Tired and sore, dragged herself back to the place where she feels some modicum of repair of herself. Like holding in the blood that is trying to seep out of.
It's no more a flick of acknowledgment whilst she licks these wounds in the hope that they will close. Wary, as if she expects reproach for herself - one she cannot bear right now. So it's a tempered acknowledgment so much as she does not seem to be able to keep herself inside of herself, no matter what she does.
no subject
It's no more a flick of acknowledgment whilst she licks these wounds in the hope that they will close. Wary, as if she expects reproach for herself - one she cannot bear right now. So it's a tempered acknowledgment so much as she does not seem to be able to keep herself inside of herself, no matter what she does.
Yes? ]