You Save Yourself Or You Remain Unsaved.

I'm Not A Slash-and-burn Kind, And I'm Also Not A Posterity Kind. They Just Kind Of Exist On My Hard Drive. It's Like Walking Down The Street - What You Leave Behind Is Still There, Even If You Never Go Back And Revisit It.

There Was Our Father, The Heart We Knew Held All Of Us. Held Us Heavily And Desperately, The Doors Of His Heart Opening And Closing With The Rapidity Of Stops On An Instrument, The Quiet Felt Closures, The Ghostly Fingering, Practice And Practice And Then, Incredibly, Sound And Melody And Warmth.

You Could Not Be Filled With Hate And Be Beautiful. Like Any Other Girl, I Wanted To Be Beautiful. But I Was Filled With Hate.

At The Tips Of The Feathers There Is Air And At Their Base: Blood. I Hold Up Bones; I Wish Like Broken Glass They Could Court Light....still I Try To Place These Pieces Back Together, To Set Them Firm, To Make Murdered Girls Live Again.

A Father's Suspicion...' She Began. Is As Powerful As A Mother's Intuition.' ~pg 87, Ruana Singh And Jack Salmon