"And my mother thinks I hate her because I am barely 17 and I think I have it all worked out especially boys, and life and “I only live once so I will go and fuck him on the riverbank and believe it is romantic because there are stars shining above my head” when in reality I don’t even know my own favourite colour and I am scared to admit the music that makes me cry. I may be 17 with wrists of steel and too much eyeliner but I do know that when I fall or when something breaks or when I’m crying in the gutter smoking my last cigarette and I hate myself so much that I want to cry an ocean the only person I want is her. I want her skin, like soap and mothballs and I want her warm breasts to sob into. I want her stories and her words and her smell. The most important relationship a girl ever will or won’t have is with her mum, and goddamnit, you bitch I love you so much."