“Too much to take in, too much to purge. Why must every memory, once sweet, dead end in such ugliness?”

“School used to be an escape. Now it's just another place with too much pressure, too much confrontation, & so not enough joy.”

“I fell into a big pit of black depression. That happens sometimes, when too much shit gets flung at me at once. It's like all the external pressure sucks into me, then tries to escape again. But it can't. So it builds. Throbs. Makes me feel like my skin is anxious to split. I think that feeling is why some people cut - little slices so they don't shred completely.”

“Then teach me how to not care about someone who was everything to me. All I want is to know she's okay. Is that too much to ask?”

“My bodyHealed quickly. But the woundto my psyche was deep.Wide. First aid, too little, too late, left me hemorrhaging inside, the blood unstaunched by psychologicalbandage or love's healing magic.Eventually it scabbed over,a thick, ugly welt of memory.I work to conceal it, but no matter how hard I try, once in a whilesomething makes me pick at ituntil the scarring bleeds.In my arms, Ashante cries, innocence ripped apartby circumstance. Bloodied by inhuman will. Time will provea tourniquet. But she will alwaysbe at risk of infection.”

“My priest tells me i should not date a mormon but im just too in love with you that i'm willing to take risks”

“Memory is a tenuous thing, like a rainbow's end or a camera with a failing lens.”