We may seem fine, even when the pain remains right there beneath our surface.

The parts of me that hurt the worst want me to write something for them, but I can't. I don't know what to say. I'm lost in all this sadness, and so are they.

It's always almost Autumn, down here at Rock Bottom.

You know all that sympathy that you feel for an abused child who suffers without a good mom or dad to love and care for them? Well, they don't stay children forever. No one magically becomes an adult the day they turn eighteen. Some people grow up sooner, many grow up later. Some never really do. But just remember that some people in this world are older versions of those same kids we cry for.

It's so hard to find the place somewhere in the middle of the best and worst I've felt.

I'm falling apart, one part after another. Falling down on the world like snow. Half of me is already on the ground, watching from below.