Tomasa Krigbaum

“A LETTER FROM ROMANIA

Do you see me?

Squinting beneath the half-light,
Searching for a key to
The locked door of the world,
Lost within my own shadow
Amidst an empire of fear.

Do you feel me?

Heating a brick
To warm my sleep.
Drifting into dreams,
In search of myself,
In search of a conscience, a country.

Do you hear me?

Reciting jokes
Laughing to hide tears of truth
That we are denied the present
With empty promises
Of an emptier future.

Do you pity me?

Lips that know no taste of fruit,
Lonely in a country of millions,
Stumbling toward the gallows
Of bad decisions
While the walls listen and laugh.

Will you remember me?

A boy with wings of hope
Strapped to his back
That never had a chance to open,
Denied forever knowing
What he could have become.

What we all could have become.”
― Ruta Sepetys, I Must Betray You

“With a new awareness, both painful and humorous, I begin to understand why the saints were rarely married women.”
― Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Gift from the Sea: 70th Anniversary Edition

“Things that Shane doesn't want on his grave:
(1.) I thought it wasn't loaded.
(2.) Hand me a match so I can check the gas tank.
(3.) Killed over Ice Cream”
― Rachel Caine, Kiss of Death

“...the holes in your life are permanent. You have to grow around them, like tree roots around concrete; you mould yourself through the gaps.”
― Paula Hawkins, The Girl on the Train