You Could Do A Lot Worse.

The Pain Over My Heart Returns, And From It I Imagine Tiny Fissures Spreading Out Into My Body. Through My Torso, Down My Arms And Legs, Over My Face, Leaving It Crisscrossed With Cracks. One Good Jolt...and I Could Shatter Into Strange Razor-sharp Shards.

There's No Point In Comforting Words, In Telling Her She'll Be All Right. She's No Fool. Her Hand Reaches Out And I Clutch It Like A Lifeline. As If It's Me Who's Dying Instead Of Rue.

Because Something Is Significantly Wrong With A Creature That Sacrifices Its Children’s Lives To Settle Its Differences.

Stupid People Are Dangerous.

And When Again It's Morning, They'll Wash Away. Here It's Safe, Here It's Warm Here The Daisies Guard You From Every Harm.