“I've had to dig the crush from myself, tucked away behind my final rib, deeper than the emotion I felt. Have had to slide my fingers through pulp and innards to pluck it out, (have been) gutted. I want to exhume it from my soul, too, but that's proving harder. How do I wring an intangible thing? I can't even find my soul with my hands, let alone rinse it and hang it out to dry. I want to see the crush drip drip to the ground, just as the water drips from my hair to the pavement now on the walk back to my car, toes purpled with cold.”
Book:Nothing but My Body