Defiance rose up like vomit. I swung back and yelled, "Don't ever do that again!

Memory is a tenuous thing. . . . flickering glimpses, blue and white, like ancient, decomposing 16mm film. Happiness escapes me there, where faces are vague and yesterday seems to come tied up in ribbons of pain. Happiness? I look for it intead in today, where memory is something I can still touch, still rely on. I find it in the smiles of new friends, the hope blossoming inside. My happiest memories have no place in the past; they are those I have yet to create.

School used to be an escape. Now it's just another place with too much pressure, too much confrontation, & so not enough joy.

I don't need more pain in my life. Why did I invite it in? Do I have to feel pain to believe I feel anything at all?

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.

Without poetry, stories would be told in sepia.

i expected demands. he gifted me with tenderness. i expected ego. he let me experiment. i expected disrespect. he called me beautiful. i expected him to expect perfection. he taught me all i needed to know.