Whatever you choose for your stationery is your favorite color because it's where you pour your heart out.

You've always been two people. The Jenna who wants to please and the Jenna who secretly resents in. They won't break, you know. Your parents never thought you were perfect. You did.

Maybe there was no one way to define it. Maybe there were as many shades of love as the blues of the sky.

A single gentle rain makes the grass many shades greener. So our prospects brighten . . .

Things I can feel. Hard. Soft. Rough. Smooth. But the inside kind of feel, it is all the same, like foggy mush. Is that the part of me that is still asleep? (9)

I still cry on waking. I'm not sure why. I feel nothing. Nothing I can name, anyway. It's like breathing - something that happens over which I have no control. (6)

Multiple closets for different needs. Overkill.