He Is Strong, And Lithe,

I Do Trust You, Is What I Want To Say. But It Isn't True -- I Didn't Trust Him To Love Me Despite The Terrible Things I Had Done. I Don't Trust Anyone To Do That, But That Isn't His Problem; It's Mine.

Some Things Are Hard To Let Go Of.

Though He Does Not Touch Me, He Steadies Me.

Blood Is A Strange Color. It's Darker Than You Expect It To Be.

I Look Older. Maybe It's The Short Hair Or Maybe It's Just That I Wear All That Has Happened Like A Mask. Either Way, I Always Thought I Would Be Happy When I Stopped Looking Like A Child. But All I Feel Is A Lump In My Throat. I Am No Longer The Daughter My Parents Knew. They Will Never Know Me As I Am Now.