No One Can Tell Us No. No

I Need To Live My Life In The Light Of Their Deaths. I Need To Live.

He Who Leaps For The Sky May Fall, It's True. But He May Also Fly.

Poetry Isn't Like Any Writing I've Ever Heard Before. I Don't Understand All Of It, Just Bits Of Images, Sentences That Appear Half-finished, All Fluttering Together Like Brightly Colored Ribbons In The Wind.

It's An Incredible Thing, How You Can Feel So Taken Care Of By Someone And Yet Feel, Also, Like You Would Die Or Do Anything Just For The Chance To Protect Him Back.

But It's Not About Knowing. It Is Simply About Going Forward.