And they say that eyes are windows to the soul. I wonder what stories mine tell to the person who looks deep into them. I, the prodigal daughter, have come home at last. There is nothing in the world like the chaos that is my home life. Siblings. Neices and nephews. Darkness and deviance.
I think I have found my Indulgence. That spark to light the flame. Without preamble or the games people play.
Will it last?