[It's all day, and it's all night. It never stops, the barbs are always there, asking her just what it is she thinks she's doing. She can't live here. This place will tear her apart with all of its upheavals and games. She can't escape the promises she made, all the years imprinted on her, the desperate longing to go back to her sad little prison where at least she had the delusion of a caretaker. All the disgust she feels for that pitiful romanticism.
She just sounds dazed when she agrees,]
My skin is crawling. [She has been pulling at her hair to keep her hands away from her neck, something to fist her fingers into when there's nowhere else to bury them. It's always something.]
I-- [Want. Need.] want a date, with you and your needles, doctor.
[One way or another. While she still has her head together, or after she's gone too far, but... she's trying.]
too early;
She just sounds dazed when she agrees,]
My skin is crawling. [She has been pulling at her hair to keep her hands away from her neck, something to fist her fingers into when there's nowhere else to bury them. It's always something.]
I-- [Want. Need.] want a date, with you and your needles, doctor.
[One way or another. While she still has her head together, or after she's gone too far, but... she's trying.]