I Cover My Face With My Arms

It’s Not Wondering What I Breathe In, But Who, That Threatens To Choke Me.

At Some Point, You Have To Stop Running And Turn Around And Face Whoever Wants You Dead.the Hard Thing Is Finding The Courage To Do It.

That It's No Good Loving Me Because I'm Never Going To Get Married Anyway And He'd Just End Up Hating Me Later Instead Of Sooner.

What Will Break Me Into A Million Pieces So That I Am Beyond Repair, Beyond Usefulness?

Never Having Been In Love, This Is Going To Be A Real Trick. I Think Of My Parents. The Way My Father Never Failed To Bring Her Gifts From The Woods. The Way My Mother's Face Would Light Up At The Sound Of His Boots At The Door. The Way She Almost Stopped Living When He Died.