©️ Tina Gibbons 2022
"I detest the color of these walls. I asked once what shade it was, and the answer was alabaster. Not quite white, or yellow, or gray, but a hue to calm and soothe. To me, it is a tone that shrinks the room and suffocates the mind. I lay my pencil next to the notebook assigned to record the details of my grief and horror: what happened at the Falls. Here, in my heart, lodged deeply behind pain and confusion, hide resentment and anger. Greedily, I don't want to let them go, those feelings that justify my actions or the words that tell my story. As if they could understand my thoughts once out of my mouth, no, only hammer and forge them until they could be used against me."