Doctors Put A Wall Up Between Themselves

What Could You Give Me," I Ask, My Voice Shaking, "to Make Me Forget ... That You Forgot About Me?

Sometimes I Think The Human Heart Is Just A Simple Shelf. There Is Only So Much You Can Pile Onto It Before Something Falls Off An Edge And You Are Left To Pick Up The Pieces.

My Whole Life Was About Her, What If Her Whole Life Wasn’t All About Me?

I Imagine Having That Sixth Sense, The Certainty That What I'm Looking For Is Within Reach, Even If It's Still Hidden.

Everyone Has A Story; Everyone Hides His Past As A Means Of Self-preservation. Some Just Do It Better, And More Thoroughly, Than Others.