The Air's Warm With Hopeful Hints Of

He Frosted Under Heavy Guard.

She’s Really Gone, Then. The Little Girl With The Back Of Her Shirt Sticking Out Like A Duck Tail, The One Who Needed Help Reaching The Dishes, And Who Begged To See The Frosted Cakes In The Bakery Window. Time And Tragedy Have Forced Her To Grow Too Quickly, At Least For My Taste, Into A Young Woman Who Stitches Bleeding Wounds And Knows Our Mother Can Hear Only So Much.

And Then, When He’s Been Underwater So Long I Feel Certain He’s Drowned, His Head Pops Up Right Next To Me And I Start. “don’t Do That,” I Say. “what? Come Up Or Stay Under?” He Says. “either. Neither. Whatever

Just Give Him The Medicine!" I Scream At Her. "give It To Him! Who Are You, Anyway, To Decide How Much Pain He Can Stand!

Your Only Defense Can Be You Were So Madly In Love You Weren't Responsible For Your Actions.