There is a point when tears don't work to wash things away anymore. Grabbing for breath has now broken my fingers.
Stop inviting walls into wide open spaces.
You're not the only piece of patchwork birds can pull worms from.
We were never tragedies. We were emergencies. You go ahead, call 9-1-1. Tell them I'm havin' a fantastic time.
The future gets no say in who we are.
Even good hearts know how to turn bad touch and genocide into clichés just to make room for more comfort.