The Cake Had A Trick Candle That

A Person Didn’t Need To Be Beautiful, They Just Needed To Be Loved. But I Couldn’t Help Wanting It. If That Was The Way I Could Be Loved, To Be Beautiful, I’d Take It

One Can Bear Anything. The Pain We Cannot Bear Will Kill Us Outright.

Who Was I, Really? I Was The Sole Occupant Of My Mother's Totalitarian State, My Own Personal History Rewritten To Fit The Story She Was Telling That Day. There Were So Many Missing Pieces. I Was Starting To Find Some Of Them, Working My Way Upriver, Collecting A Secret Cache Of Broken Memories In A Shoebox.

No Matter How Unappealing, Each Of Them Imagines He Is Somehow Worthy.

I Felt Like Time Was A Great Sea, And I Was Floating On The Back Of A Turtle, And No Sails Broke The Horizon.