“Love is not of value when this superficial contract must be drawn up, representing the two worlds that enclose us.”

“I’ll dream up a world where you never existed. A world you could never live in. I’ll live there without you.”

“I’m tired of wanting to respond but never knowing what face you’ll be wearing, not knowing what mean or nice words you’ll be saying, so I stay silent knowing I can’t take another round of your uncontrolled verbs, your misinterpretations of my world. So many men? Yes, I have so many men, didn’t know that this text-fighting, me on the other side crying was exclusive to just us two.”

“Our stations in life, our difference of cultures, the pain-laid men who raised us—forbid us to be us. They have brainwashed us. We feel we should believe the polarity between us.”

“When it’s just you, just me, no one around to tell us how we should be—I know we could have made it. I know we could have fought it. I know we could have conquered.”

“I write with my spine, create through my heart and defiant mind. Happy or not happy, it’s real, it’s living like blood, pen and paper. Hearts that wake up racing, wanting. Trading fear in for the hurt, the hard, the challenge, the change, the pain, the stuff that makes you grow bigger, stronger, better. Granting you the crazy, the genius, the ability, the power to change the world.”

“Stop pretending. You wanted to be real right? This hurts, this is what it feels like, this is the growing up, the stoping pretending, the false past tap-dancing. This is the owning. This is the no-i-won’t-be-performing, this is growing out of the glamour and back into the tattered shabby mis-constructed hearts shadow. This is me owning. This is me admitting. This is me realing-up, maning-up. growing up, wanting up.”