I haven't cried since Mom died. I mean, after something like that, what's left to cry about, right? But I let myself cry now. Loss is loss. Doesn't take death to create it. (266)

No way to get away. No way to get away. Little change to sneak away... insanity.

Possibilities ...in the closet ...itching ...to break out ...but afraid of ...the fallout

Or might the soul clone itself, create a perfect imitation of something yet to be defined? In this way, can a reflection be altered?

Sorry. But I don't need some money-grubbing preacher defining my relationship with God.

Love means holding on to someone just as hard as you can because if you don't, one blink and they might disappear...forever.

Cleansed, chlorinated to the point of chemical peel, sore muscles relieved, I felt almost human again. Tiptoe to my room, up a darkened hall, past closed doors, I wondered if I'd ever feel completely human again.