Two precious girls I never understood. They hugged and

loved but I never wanted to hug them. They weren’t right

and they deserved a beautiful life and never got one.

We just watched, watched, watched. Watching all the time.

You know you love someone when they call you and you’re excited about every single thing they have to say to you.

J lived up to my age and finally died in his bed.

Dad: How was your day visiting the prison?Mom: Oh, there was this girl crying and I asked her about her past and she had slits all down her arms, she did it to

herself.

We would sink our feet into the sand and our eyes into the

sea, we were born with burnt white faces.

And the grass, oh, the grass.

I remember when the lady taking care of our house

drugged herself and locked herself in the bathroom. The

police came and the dog was drugged, too. She had been in

the woman’s shelter. She’s dead now.

Horrible, dead, on the street. I don’t even know how to feel. Traumatized.

You’re not going to hurt anyone and much less yourself.

To someone else they are just words, but to you they are

everything you are made up of.