Her eyes flutter up to meet mine. “Are you hungry?”she asks. Am I ever.

I have a feeling that once you live through something like this, you become a little bit invincible.

This is myself, baby. All of my selves. I own each and every one of them. I know who I'm pretending to be and who I am." The look he gives me is withering. "Do you?

The boogeyman sleeps on your side of the bad Whispers in my ear :"Better of Dead" Fills my dreams with sirens and lights of regret Kisses me gently when i wake up in a sweat "boo!

He gives me a little shrug, like, of course, why else? And at this point, I really have no right to be surprised by people's capacity for kindness and generosity, but still, I am. I'm floored every time.

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.

If I stay. If I live. It's up to me.