The Hardest Thing On Earth Is Choosing

Loss Takes Up Inside Of Everything Sooner Or Later And Eats Right Through It.

History Is Not Just Facts And Events. History Is Also A Pain In The Heart And We Repeat History Until We Are Able To Make Another's Pain In The Heart Our Own.

In The Photograph By My Bed My Mother Is Perpetually Smiling On Me. I Guess I Have Forgiven Us Both, Although Sometimes In The Night My Dreams Will Take Me Back To The Sadness, And I Have To Wake Up And Forgive Us Again.

The Redness Had Seeped From The Day And Night Was Arranging Herself Around Us. Cooling Things Down, Staining And Dyeing The Evening Purple And Blue Black.

Every Little Thing Wants To Be Loved.