“Act on your impulse, swallow the bottle, cut a little deeper, put the gun to your chest.”

“Wish you could turn off the questions, turn off the voices, turn off all sound.Yearn to close out the ugliness, close out the filthiness, close out all light.Long to cast away yesterday, cast away memory, cast away all jeapordy.Pray you could somehow stop uncertainty, somehow stop the loathing, somehow stop the pain.Act on your impulse, swallow the bottle, cut a little deeper, put the gun to your chest.”

“Your hurt swallows ine, like space swallows time, and the two intertwine. We tangle together.”

“crawling up into daddy's lapwhen dad was stillDADDYnodding my head against his chest soaking in the comfort of his heartLISTENINGto the thump...thumpsomewhere beneath muscleand breastbone I remember his armstheir sublimeENCIRCLINGand the shawdow of his voice"I love you, little girl.Put away your bad dreams.Daddy's here"I put them away, Until Daddy became my nightmare that one that cameHOMEfrom work everyday and insteadof picking me up, chased me farfaraway”

“Always act like a lady in front of closed doors. Never show emotion if it means risking your power.”

“I swallow any sort of apology."screwing your neighbor."There. Said it. React, okay?pregnant pause becomes three weeks overdue. Four weeks. Time for a C-section. What? Oh, Kaeleigh, I'm so sorry. Are you sure...?”

“Not Exactly TrueThat skin hate is dead.There will never be colorblindness in a culture offear.But when you live afraidof your neighbor, the monsteryou should most walkin terror ofthrives.It starts as a little thing,small enough to burrowinto your pores, take upexcruciating residenceinthe dark recesses of your brain.Its name is paranoia,and it spreads like an oilspill, there inthe shadows,chokes your humanity.Threatens your soul.”