Go out and do something. It isn’t your room that’s a prison, it’s yourself.

Bright beads of red are rising through the ink, Hearts-blood bubbles smearing out into the black stream

Slowly, slowly, catch the monkey.

People or stars Regard me sadly, I disappoint them.

The journey over the bridge had unnerved me. The river water passed me by like an untouched drink. I suspected that even if my mother and brother had not been there I would have made no move to jump.

I had hoped, at my departure, I would feel sure and knowledgeable about everything that lay ahead -- after all, I had been "analyzed." Instead, all I could see were question marks.

That afternoon my mother had brought me the roses. "Save them for my funeral," I'd said.