“And whilst you’ve taught me to be brave …”

“And whilst you’ve taught me to be brave, this very same bravery means – inevitably – I care less and hurt less when – equally – you aim to hurt me; and the hurt still hurts – don’t get me wrong! – but the song of injustice is something I need only to sing; it’s not something I need anyone else to sing any more; and so – no longer – do I set store by the opinions you might hold on me; and this tree I loved so dearly grabs my attention less and less, and I have to confess even begins to bore me; and whilst I can live for little more with the people who bore me, I no longer need other place to go in order that I can love the life I have; for the life I will have is now a start from rupturing scratch, and only my offspring and recent friends will remain from my passed … and everything else will must be … 

new!” 


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