The Phoenix Must Burn To Emerge.

She’s Not As Pretty As You,” I Said “but She’s A Simpler Girl,” My Mother Whispered.

How Easy I Was. Like A Limpet I Attached Myself To Anything, Anyone Who Showed Me The Least Attention.

I Watched Her For A Long Time, Memorizing Her Shoulders, Her Long-legged Gait. This Was How Girls Left. They Packed Up Their Suitcases And Walked Away In High Heels. They Pretended They Weren't Crying, That It Wasn't The Worst Day Of Their Lives. That They Didn't Want Their Mothers To Come Running After Them, Begging Their Forgiveness, That They Wouldn't Have Gone Down On Their Knees And Thanked God If They Could Stay.

She Was Not Used To Being Cruel, But He Had Taught Her How.

The Stupid Things You Say In The Rain, That Can't Ever Be Washed Away.