That's What Happens To Dreams, Life Gets

You Build A Wall To Keep Something Unwanted Out … Or To Hold Something Precious In.

Words Got In The Way. The Things We Felt The Hardest--like What It Was Like To Have A Boy Touch You As If You Were Made Of Light, Or What It Meant To Be The Only Person In The Room Who Wasn't Noticed--weren't Sentences; They Were Knots In The Wood Of Our Bodies, Places Where Our Blood Flowed Backward. If You Asked Me, Not That Anyone Ever Did, The Only Words Worth Saying Were I'm Sorry.

I Pointed To The Wound. "it's Missing," I Said. My Grandmother Smiled, And That Was All It Took For Me To Stop Seeing The Scar, And To Recognize Her Again. "yes," She Said. "but See How Much Of Me Is Left?

Is Fate Getting What You Deserve, Or Deserving What You Get?

Most People Who Offer Their Help Do It To Make Themselves Feel Better, Not Us. To Be Honest, I Don't Blame Them. It's Superstition: If You Give Assistance To The Family In Need... If You Throw Salt Over Your Shoulder... If You Don't Step On The Cracks, Then Maybe You'll Be Immune. Maybe You'll Be Able To Convince Yourself That This Could Never Happen To You.