I Do Not Want To Pass The

It's As If I've Inherited A Skin I Cannot Quite Fit, And So I Walk About Constantly Pulling And And Tugging, Pinning And Pruning, Trying Desperately To Fill It Out, Hoping That No One Will Look At Me Struggling And Say, 'that One There- She's A Fraud, Look How She Doesn't Fit At All.

I Know Because I Read...your Mind Is Not A Cage. It's A Garden. And It Requires Cultivating.

I Hate This Place,” Tiara Whimpered. “it’s Super Creepy. Like A Haunted Chuck E. Cheese’s Where The Games All Want To Kill You And You Never Get Your Pizza.

There's No Time To Be Modest. Reason Will Not Work Here. Without Warning, I Kiss Kartik. His Lips, Pressed Firmly Against Mine, Are A Surprise. They Are Warm, Light As Breath, Firm As The Give Of A Peach Against My Mouth. A Scent Like Scorched Cinnamon Hangs In The Air, But I'm Not Falling Into Any Vision. It's His Smell In Me. A Smell That Makes My Stomach Drop Through My Feet. A Smell That Pushes All Thought Out Of My Head And Replaces It With An Overpowering Hunger For More.

He Told Me That Once, In The War, He’d Come Upon A German Soldier In The Grass With His Insides Falling Out; He Was Just Lying There In Agony. The Soldier Had Looked Up At Sergeant Leonard, And Even Though They Didn’t Speak The Same Language, They Understood Each Other With Just A Look. The German Lying On The Ground; The American Standing Over Him. He Put A Bullet In The Soldier’s Head. He Didn’t Do It With Anger, As An Enemy, But As A Fellow Man, One Soldier Helping Another.