Beautiful. And ugly. The world is always both.

I think my head's a minefield strewn with triggers, and maybe if I survive each explosion, what emerges from the wreckage will be me, really, truly me.

A curve of silver hung amid the brighter specks; it looked to me like a curved dagger, pretty but deadly, as if it might slice the sky in two.

I’d never known it was possible to love as he did— with complete devotion yet devoid of promises.

There are quiet ways to die where the body just doesn’t notice that the heart is gone.

With my partner beside me, I fear nothing, not even death.

I never knew I had the power to hurt him, only that he possessed the power to hurt me.