At Least The Girls In Stories Were

Sometimes A Wild Horse Needs To Feel That His Rider Is Just A Little Bit Wilder.

I'll Be Inside The One Who Holds You. And Then I Won't Be.

The Circus Tent Was Flowing Pale In The Rain Like A Fleshy Flower Lit From Within. It Seemed To Bloom In The Downpour. Drops Of Rain Caught On Rafe's Eyelashes, Blinding Him As The Circus Light Struck Them. He Groped For The Flap, That Slit In The Fabric That Would Reveal Her To Him. She Was On The Rope Again, Her Skirt Flashing With Tiny Mirrors, Hair Braided With Petals. He Looked Up At Her, Dizzy With It, Seeing Her Face Framed In The Parasol. There Were Bluish Shadows Around Her Eyes.

Writing Is Very Cathartic For Me. As A Teacher, I Hear Many Students Say That Writing Can Be Painful And Exhausting. It Can Be, But Ultimately I Believe That If You Push Through, The Process Is Healing And Exhilarating.

He Said That Black Sheeps Express Everyone Else's Anger And Pain. It's Not That They Have All The Anger And Pain-they're Just The Only Ones Who Let It Out. Then The Other People Don't Have To.