There Is A Time In

In School, They Would Tell You That Life Wouldn’t Come To You; You Had To Go Out And Make It Your Own. But When It Came To Love, The Message For Girls Seemed To Be This: Don’t. Don’t Go After What You Want. Wait. Wait To Be Chosen, As If Only In The Eye Of Another Could One Truly Find Value. The Message Was Confusing And Infuriating. It Was A Shell Game With No Actual Pea Under The Rapidly Moving Cups.

I Don't Have Time To Feel Sorry For Myself. I've Got To Think.

Will Was Making A Speech, Something About Having Been Young And Careless Once, The Sort Of Thing Old-timers Said When They Issued A Deathblow, As If They Thought Their Sanctimonious Ramblings Disguised As Empathy Would Be Welcomed, But Evie Was Only Half Listening.

Prepared To Fly, Even If She Has To Loose Her Legs To Do It

Without Further Warning, The Sky Opens Up And Cries.