with my heart in my hands again

I almost thought I'd lost this cross stitch when I moved to Gothenburg, but tonight when I was roaming around my craft basket it suddenly appeared again. It's actually one of my favorites, so I thought that it deserved to be properly framed.

It's not that it's the most complicated or political work I've done, but I remember being heartbroken & really hurting when stitching it, just coming to terms with the fact that I had to get on with life & leave something/someone behind. Plus, the death of the Gits' singer Mia Zapata (who wrote the lyrics that I'm quoting) is one of the saddest & most upseting ones that I know of. As Kathleen Hanna once put it:

another woman killed and hardly a pout about it / green river killer my fucking ass / the cops have gotta be deaf, dumb, and spastic / to not catch the killer(s) of one hundred woman / i guess it'd be different if they thought we were human