Gossip Is The Foul Smell

Emma Hears Me Come Up The Stairs And Asks Me To Watch A Movie With Her. I Stick Band-aids On My Weeping Cuts, Put On Pink Pajamas So We Match, And Snuggle With Her Under Her Rainbow Comforter. She Arranges All Of Her Stuffed Animals Around Us In A Circle, Everyone Facing The Tv, Then Presses Play...ghosts Dare Not Enter Here.

I Knew How Much It Hurt To Be The Daughter Of People Who Can't See You, Not Even If You Are Standing In Front Of Them Stomping Your Feet.

I Nod Like I’m Listening,like We’re Communicating, And She Never Knows The Difference.

Bologna Girl, That's Me.

When People Don't Express Themselves, They Die One Piece At A Time. You'd Be Shocked At How Many Adults Are Really Dead Inside—walking Through Their Days With No Idea Who They Are, Just Waiting For A Heart Attack Or Cancer Or A Mack Truck To Come Along And Finish The Job. It's The Saddest Thing I Know.