Know that it's coming: Something unforgettable will happen, That turns your heart cold, Making you hate where you grew up. Even your best friends, who were with you on this fateful day, may vanish into the wind, never to return. You might even channel the oceanic boundlessness of rage into a grand plan of escape. But all the while, you'll forget that the wellspring of your creativity is the very thing you're running away from. Know that it's within you to hold both— with the same hands you use to hold yourself.