And I Provide Much- Needed

I Feel The Monster Of Grief Again, Writhing In The Empty Space Where My Heart And Stomach Used To Be. I Gasp, Pressing Both Palms To My Chest. Now The Monstrous Thing Has Its Claws Around My Throat, Squeezing My Airway. I Twist And Put My Head Between My Knees, Breathing Until The Strangled Feeling Leaves Me.

Dead People Can Be Our Heroes Because They Can't Disappoint Us Later; They Only Improve Over Time, As We Forget More And More About Them.

Yes," She Says, Her Eyes Bright With Tears. "my Dear Child, You've Done So Well.

I Don’t Know What World You Live In, But In Mine, People Only Do Things For You For One Of Two Reasons. The First Is If They Want Something In Return. And The Second Is If They Feel Like They Owe You Something.

I Feel The Urge, Familiar Now, To Wrench Myself From My Body And Speak Directly Into Her Mind. It Is The Same Urge, I Realize, That Makes Me Want To Kiss Her Every Time I See Her, Because Even A Sliver Of Distance Between Us Is Infuriating. Our Fingers, Loosely Woven A Moment Ago, Now Clutch Together, Her Palm Tacky With Moisture, Mine Rough In Places Where I Have Grabbed Too Many Handles On Too Many Moving Trains. Now She Looks Pale And Small, But Her Eyes Make Me Think Of Wide-open Skies That I Have Never Actually Seen, Only Dreamed Of.