Fall In Love With Someone Who Truly

Everything, In The End, Comes Down To Timing. One Second, One Minute, One Hour Could Make All The Difference.

It's Always Been Hard To Call Myself A Writer. I Think A Part Of Me Still Thinks It's Too Good To Be True.

The Lizard Stared Up At Us, And We Stared Back, Taking Each Other In. He Was Little And Defenseless, I Felt Sorry For Him Already. This Was A Screwed-up Place He'd Just Come Into. But He Didn't Have To Know That. Not Yet, Anyway. There In That Room, Where It Was Hot And Cramped, The World Probably Still Seemed Small Enough To Manage.

I Was Just Stock In The Middle, Vague And Undefined.

The Silence Wasn't Like The Ones I'd Known Lately, Though: It Wasn't Empty As Much As Chosen. There's A Entirely Different Feel To Quiet When You're With Some-one Else, And At Any Moment It Could Be Broken. Like The Difference Between A Pause And An Ending.