In The End....everything Matters.

But They Were Wrong. There Was A Reason.

The Main Thing I Wanted To Say, And Thankfully It’s What Most People Say They Get Out Of The Book, Is Simply An Acknowledgement That We Do Affect Each Other In Ways We Can’t Predict.

I Could Picture Life—school And Everything Else—continuing On Without Me. But I Could Not Picture My Funeral. Not At All. Mostly Because I Couldn’t Imagine Who Would Attend Or What They Would Say.

How Many Times Had I Let Myself Connect With Someone Only To Have It Thrown Back In My Face?

That’s What I Love About Poetry. The More Abstract, The Better. The Stuff Were Your Not Sure What The Poets Talking About. You May Have An Idea, But You Cant Be Sure. Not A Hundred Percent. Each Word, Specifically Chosen, Could Have A Million Different Meanings. Is It A Stand-in ―a Symbol For Another Idea? Does It Fit Into A Larger, More Hidden, Metaphor? ...i Hated Poetry Until Someone Showed Me How To Appreciate It. He Told Me To See Poetry As A Puzzle. Its Up To The Reader To Decipher The Code, Or The Words, Based On Everything They Know About Life And Emotions.