And at some point I would like to talk my publisher into doing an anthology of my poetry alongside some teen readers poetry. It would be fun, and really wonderful to get their stuff out there.

Six months since we met up again we are inseparable, an intricate weave. No longer do I believe this is a temporary fling. More like total commitment. More like I have walked down the aisle, holding hands with the monster.

Falling in love with someone is the surest highway to hurt that I know. When the door to love opens, the window to control closes.

But then, my entire life is bullshit. The best things in it have vanished, ghosts. Ghosts I'll admit I created.

Funny thing, your brain, how it always functions on one level or another. How, even stuck in some sort of subconcious limbo, it works your lungs, your muscle twitches, your heart, in fact, in symphony with your heart, allowing it to feel love. Pain. Jealousy. Guilt. I wonder if it’s the same for people, lost in comas. Is there really such a thing

Evil is not intrinsic. It's fashioned.

And almost instantly, Daddy made everything seem just fine. Even when it wasn't.