Sometimes I Lie

by Alice Feeney

The dead are not so very far away when you really need them; they’re just on the other side of an invisible wall. Grief is only ever yours and so is guilt. It’s not something you can share.

We are all just ghosts of the people we hoped that we were and counterfeit replicas of the people we wanted to be.

nothing like a mother’s love—take that away and you’ll find there is nothing like a daughter’s hate.