How Can You Call It Love When

His Door Is Closed Behind Me. It's Staying Closed. He's Letting Me Go. I Think I've Made Myself Very Clear, But No Ones Stepping Forward To Stop Me. A Lot Of You Cared, Just Not Enough. And That...that Is What I Needed To Find Out. And I Did Find Out. And I'm Sorry.

But Sometimes There’s Nothing Left To Do But Move On.

The Road To Publication Is Like A Churro - Long And Bumpy, But Sweet.

I Was Too Weak To Walk. At Least, I Thought I Was Too Weak. But In Truth, I Was Too Weak To Try.

You Told Me I Wrote That Poem Because I Was Afraid Of Dealing With Myself. And I Used My Mom As An Excuse, Accusing Her Of Not Appreciating Or Accepting Me, When I Should Have Been Saying Those Words Into A Mirror.