“That wallpaper. touching it like that, was one of my protection tricks”
“I have my booksAnd my poetry to protect me;I am shielded in my armor,Hiding in my room, safe within my womb.I touch no one and no one touches me.I am a rock,I am an island.”
“My wallpaper and I are fighting a duel to the death. One or the other of us has to go.”
“I'm like the wallpaper, there but barely noticed.”
“For once I'd like to be human wallpaper.”
“It was like that. Sometimes I'd go for a period—days or weeks—without feeling the full sweep of my loss, and then as unexpected as a thunderclap, the realization would rip the protective coating from my senses. Maybe that's the way it is with trick knees and aging griefs. Totally pain free one moment and absorbingly painful the next.”