Fear is a rushing sound, like water, in my ears.
But maybe what's important is not that I matter to them, but that they matter to me. And mostly that 'I' matter to me.
I mull that over. Amber treats everyone out here like normal people, not homeless street losers, and in return they give her their names.
Then, suddenly, I reach out and wrap my granddad's hand in mine, like he once held mine, and for a while, the anger inside me quiets.
As I do, I'm reminded of textbook pictures I once saw, of ancient priests in the middle of their ceremonies, faces raised to the sun. They knew that was where the real power lay.
I slept a lot. Which I liked, because being unconscious meant not remembering.
Life might throw crap at you, but there's always a silver lining.
Sometimes out here, people swear to prove they're not scared.
The greatest loves are those kept in secret.
The life takes your self-respect. And once that's gone, well, you're lost.
We recognize the people we love no matter how much they change.