I Am Afraid Of Her, Afraid Of

Do I Look Like I’ve Been Crying?’ I Say. ‘hmm.’ He Leans In Close, Narrowing His Eyes Like He’s Inspecting My Face. A Smile Tugs At The Corner Of His Mouth. Even Closer, So We Would Be Breathng The Same Air- If I Could Remember To Breathe. ‘no, Tris,’ He Says. A More Serious Look Replaces His Smile As He Adds, ‘you Look Tough As Nails.

I'm Going To Stop A Revolution,'' I Say. I Turn Right, And Peter Follows Me.

What Makes You Different, Makes You Dangerous.

I Don't Have A Bullet In My Head, Do I? So I'm Fine.

I Know That Change Is Difficult, And Comes Slowly, And That It Is The Work Of Many Days Strung Together In A Long Line Until The Origin Of Them Is Forgotten.