<you left her bleeding without even seeing how badly you had hurt
her she might be dead for all you know and you will
go back to her next time and if she is dead, you will find someone
else and try to forget her and if she is not you might
even apologize for doing it tell her more pretty lies and gifts so
she will let you do it again>
I left her bleeding. I think I
put the coat over her, before I left. It was already stained with blood,
a dead loss really, so I gave that to her.
I wonder if it will be enough?
<you hope it will be enough>
Henry would feel guilt over it.
I was running; I went to her - hardly meant to, but who else was there?
She recognized me and let me in
anyway-
I left her bleeding. Why was I
so rough with her? The madness from earlier, of course. Violence is a drug
like any other. And - how dare
she? How dare she be kind, how
dare she understand, what right has she to give charity to
Edward Hyde!?
<it was only what you asked of her only what you wanted from her>
I could hardly let that go unpunished, could I? Even Henry must understand that.
<even you cannot understand it>
And so I left her.
Next time, she'll know better.
<left her bleeding>
But it's done now. Over. Fun while
it lasted, but ~over. Until next time. I don't want to think about it.
Don't want to see her in my mind.
And can't help it.
<you want it not to have happened even you cannot hide forever can
you trust her next time when you go to her who
else is there to go to who will let you in>
I wonder if he'll remember, in the morning. I wonder what he makes of the blood. I could make it easy. Write it for him. Over and over.
<confession and penance>
'I left her bleeding'... Your move. Go fix it, Doc. Unless you're too respectable to walk into a whore's apartment in daylight.
<as you are afraid to walk in daylight>
If she's hurt, it was her fault.
<will you learn who not to hurt which bridges not to burn
is nothing sacred not even yourself
whose fault is it whose fault>
She deserved it after all, didn't she?
<or do you deserve it>
Yes.