Never Apologize. Never Explain.

That Was What She Really Wanted. To Forget So Thoroughly She'd Never Have Another Memory Again, The Bitter So Bitter You Gave Up The Sweet.

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.

The Nearest I'd Come To Feeling Anything Like God Was The Plan Blue Cloudless Sky And A Certain Silence, But How Do You Pray To That?

She’s Not As Pretty As You,” I Said “but She’s A Simpler Girl,” My Mother Whispered.

Who Are You? The Band Sang. I Tried To Remember But I Really Couldn't Say.