To honor the selves who gave their lives for me.

I have died a few times in my short life.

Once I died laying in the grass in Winter Park, Florida. I don’t remember the dress I was wearing to this friend’s wedding, but I remember the feeling of cheap chiffon fluttering around my legs and gripping to the sweat on my calves as I walked barefoot through the deserted streets of the pristine suburb. I kept dreading and hoping a…