“IT happened. There is no avoiding it, no forgetting. No running away, or flying, or burying, or hiding.”

“I drift into the armpits of strangers, tasting their manic salt, and sleep to forget everything.”

“Cold and silence. Nothing quieter than snow. The sky screams to deliver it, a hundred banshees flying on the edge ofthe blizzard. But once the snow covers the ground, it hushes as still as my heart.”

“Another page turns on the calendar, April now, not March..........I am spinning the silk threads of my story, weaving the fabric of my world...I spun out of control. Eating was hard. Breathing was hard. Living was hardest.I wanted to swallow the bitter seeds of forgetfulness...Somehow, I dragged myself out of the dark and asked for help.I spin and weave and knit my words and visions until a life starts to take shape.There is no magic cure, no making it all go away forever. There are only small steps upward; an easier day, an unexpected laugh, a mirror that doesn't matter anymore.I am thawing.”

“If I run or breathe too deep, the cheap stitches holding me together will snap, and all the stickiness inside will pour out and burn through the concrete.”

“I watch the Eruptions. Mount Dad, long dormant, now considered armed and dangerous. Mount Saint Mom, oozing lava, spitting flame. Warn the villagers to run into the sea.”

“Did you read last nights assignments?" Say "yes'" and get hammered again. Say "no'" and the same thing would happen.”