When Had My Fear Of

When It's Time To Die, Go Ahead And Die, And When It's Time To Live, Live. Don't Sort-of-maybe Live, But Live Like You're Going All Out, Like You're Not Afraid.

Still Everyone, Including The Abbot, Had Said That He Was Running Away From His Grief. They'd Had No Idea What They Were Talking About. He'd Cradled His Grief, Almost To The Point Of Loving It. For So Long He Refused To Give It Up, Because Leaving It Behind Was Like Leaving Her.

At Night I Would Lie In Bed And Watch The Show, How Bees Squeezed Through The Cracks Of My Bedroom Wall And Flew Circles Around The Room, Making That Propeller Sound, A High-pitched Zzzzzz That Hummed Along My Skin. I Watched Their Wings Shining Like Bits Of Chrome In The Dark And Felt The Longing Build In My Chest. The Way Those Bees Flew, Not Even Looking For A Flower, Just Flying For The Feel Of The Wind, Split My Heart Down Its Seam.

Loss Takes Up Inside Of Everything Sooner Or Later And Eats Right Through It.

"why Is It Sports Is The Only Thing White People See Us Being Successful At? I Don't Want To Play Football," He Said. "i Wanna Be A Lawyer." "that's Fine With Me," I Said, A Little Annoyed. "i've Just Never Heard Of A Negro Lawyer, That's All. You've Got To Hear Of These Things Before You Can Imagine Them." "bullshit. You Gotta Imagine What's Never Been."