She returned to her home a short time later and began chemotherapy treatments in pill form.I am disappointed because my expectation was not met by the outcome.And it’s these things I’d believe in, even if the whole world indulged in wild suspicions that she wasn’t all she should be.
That which has been born within me now feeds the moments of each day we share.
It always really upset me but I’ve used that hurt and realised that there are worse things I could be called.
So come with me as I stumble through the real world one heavy foot at a time.
It is the manna for the hungry, an artesian well hidden in the dusty Sahara.
It's an old trope, a cliché as old as hairdressers themselves, probably—the act of confessing to your stylist all the woes of your love life and then listening to their advice, given as you get a root touch-up or the big chop.