“Tell me about the hands that broke you like tree branches. Tell me about the heart that made you a home, the barren soul that used your dry bones like kindling in the middle of winter. Tell me about the… — Bianca Sparacino Copy Share Image
“Do not convince yourself that your suffering was futile, that your scars are simply scars instead of stories. Do not keep your past suspended like an anchor in the back of your throat, for it is time to speak. I… — Bianca Sparacino Copy Share Image
