Being Lost While Found

  “‘I'm sorry’ doesn't sound right in your mouth, it should have been on their lips and their tongue and their knees as they grovel for forgiveness in the wrath of my agony. But instead I have your compassion and understanding, and I find that much harder to carry than the pain” -Quill

  “Breath is wasted in the hushed talk between myself and the mirror; debating what to do with the dreams that came to our door already broken. Fractured like egg shells of a sickly born bird, twisted and grotesque, the dreams writhe around and jabber in the cardboard box. I say, from within the mirror, to throw it out back and be done with the matter. I throw the box in the compactor, and listen to the quiet peeping coming from my pocket.” -Quill

"I could never draw a self portrait, not out of lack of skill. I could never draw a self portrait, it would be warped like warm butter. I could never draw a self portrait, when I touch my face I feel someone else's. I would never draw a self portrait, the nose is too sloped. I should never draw a self portrait, my heart is too burdened. I should never draw a self portrait, my ego too fragile to take anymore straws to bare. I won't ever draw a self portrait, because I cannot see myself in the mirror. I won't ever draw a self portrait because the fingers lie, and the hand shakes, and all the photographs are mocking me. I could never draw self portrait, but damn... do I want to." -Quill