Sleep would be so welcome. A warm blanket of black to erase everything else. Sleep without dreams.

I don't really care. I shouldn't have to care. I shouldn't have to work this hard. I realize now that dying is easy. Living is hard.

There are so many things that demand to be said. Where did you go? Do you ever think about me? You've ruined me. Are you okay? But of course, I can't say any of that.

Then I smell the sweat on him, a clean musky scent that I'd bottle and wear as perfume if I could.

If these walls could talk, I wonder what secrets they'd tell.

Concert' doesn’t mean standing up like a target in front of thousands of strangers. It means coming together. It means harmony.

It's just accidental, just temporary. Until the next accident sends me somewhere new. That's how life works.