Maybe Her Own Tears Were The Poison

Maybe Her Own Tears Were The Poison That Made Her Grow.

Relieved Because What I Dreaded Most In The Whole World Was Going To Happen And I Wouldn’t Have To Live With It Anymore—the Fear. There Is The Relief Of Finally Not Being Alone And The Relief Of Being Alone When No One Can Take Anything Away From You. Here She Was, My Beautiful Fear. Shiny As Crystal Lace Frost.

It's Not That I Literally Think I'm A Fearie. It's Just That I Feel So Different From Most People. And This Idea Of A Race Living Underground In Caverns, Spending All Their Days Dancing And Playing The Fiddle And Eating Flowers And Reciting Poetry And Sharing Their Dreams, That To Me Sounds Much More Real Than The Way People Live In This World, Hating And Fighting And Wanting And Hurting.

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.

I Dont Know About Happily Ever After... But I Know About Happily, Weetzie Bat Thought.