There will never be color blindness in a culture of fear.

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

I want to open myself, let him inside. But how do I give what has already been taken?

I wish I were worthy of his love. (Any love.)I should tell him to run. But I can't. I need him.

crawling up into daddy's lap when dad was still DADDY nodding my head against his chest soaking in the comfort of his heart LISTENING to the thump...thump somewhere beneath muscle and breastbone I remember his arms their sublime ENCIRCLING and the shawdow of his voice "I love you, little girl. Put away your bad dreams. Daddy's here" I put them away, Until Daddy became my nightmare that one that came HOME from work everyday and instead of picking me up, chased me far far away

It [death] chokes you, gags you, but you have to pretend that you're doing just fine, not trembling with this fear because the end is close.

I can't change what has happened in the past, Kaeleigh. I can only promise to make the future better.