My heart is a teacup with hairline cracks. I feel like I have to walk real carefully so it won't get shaken and just all shatter and break.

I pounded through the houses, staggering down the hallways, falling down the steps. It was a hot streaky dawn full of insecticides, exhaust, flowers that could make you sick or fall in love. My battered Impala was still parked there on the side of the road and I wanted to lie down on the shredded seats and sleep and sleep. But I thought of the bones; I could hear them singing. They needed me to write their song.

No matter how bad things get, you can always see the beauty in them. The worse things get, the more you have to make yourself see the magic in order to survive.

Find the goddess inside yourself instead of looking for the god in someone else.

Tinys do not deserve safety. If they are to prove themselves, they must suffer and die or suffer and survive.

You make me feel like I have wings when you touch me.

Once upon a time . . . What time are we upon and where do I belong?