Why Do People Want To Pretend That

Evil Depends On Where You're Standing.

His Fingers Leave Streaks Of Cold On My Skin, Invisible To The Eye, And I Think About Wrapping His Shirt Around My Fist And Pulling Him In To Kiss Me; I Think About Pressing Myself Against Him, But I Can't, Because All Our Secrets Would Keep A Space Between Us.

I Used To Go Outside Every Day And Invent These Elaborate Worlds And Scenarios In My Head, And When I Grew Too Old For Playing Pretend, I Started To Write Everything Down Instead.

He Leans His Face Close To Mine And Wraps His Fingers Around My Chin. His Hand Smells Like Metal. When Was The Last Time He Held A Gun, Or A Knife?

We Believe That Peace Is Hard-won, That Sometimes It Is Necessary To Fight For Peace. But More Than That, We Believe That Justice Is More Important Than Peace.