I was a door with a rusty lock and a broken bell.
Today, truth matters to me.
A balloon will pop if too much pressure is applied.
I don’t usually write in simple black and white ways.
I am left to kiss her forehead one last time.
It’s been 25 years or more since I’ve been suicidal.
The lawn is cool beneath my feet.
I lost my mom in 2001.
I struggle with schizophrenia, but still live a good life.