When I die, I can envision this town, spray painting ❛𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫❜ on my tombstone, a testament to the way they’ll remember me—defined by their judgments rather than my truth.
If they belong to me they're to be untouched by anyone else. Left to me to satisfy. Not to be eyed or spoken to unless directed otherwise. Their body, their breath, their soul-all answer to me; and no one else