It would have been nice if there was some artistry, a touch of beauty in the words, in essence something that had a quality that made your heart ache when you read it. It was what I was looking for, except, of course, things like that don't appear when needed. And when they do fall on us unsuspecting, we tend to place them somewhere dark and airless, because we'd rather not (thank you very much) see those heart-wrenchers every day.
It would have been nice, even then, to find them. If only someone could have the energy to write when they were lying on the floor, somewhere, words overflowing in torrents from a hole in their chest.
So, before I get my act together, I want to ask: has anybody ever died from that? Bleeding words?