I Am Getting Better At Smiling When

Can't Escape Pain, Kiddo. Battle Through It And You Get Stronger.

Here Stands A Girl Clutching A Knife. There Is Grease On The Stove, Blood In The Air, And Angry Words Piled In The Corners. We Are Trained Not To See It, Not To See Any Of It. . . . Someone Just Ripped Off My Eyelids.

I Am Locked Into The Mirror And There Is No Door Out.

We Turned Us Into Wintergirls, And When She Tried To Leave, I Pulled Her Back Into The Snow Because I Was Afraid To Be Alone.

You Were Born With The Seeds Of Your Talent, The Ability To Observe The World Around You And Weave Piece Of It Into A Story. I Believe That Most -- If Not All -- People Are Born With These Seeds. What Separates The Writers From The Non-writers Is That The Writers Actually Sit Down And, You Know... Write.