I would prove to you that being different isn't a death sentence but a call to arms.
Unlike Elise, who could discover parts of a person they didn't even know were absent, you specialized in tangible, but that, I feared, was only a matter of time.
There are certain things I do not talk about.
For better or for worse, music is the language of memory. It is also the language of love.
If words had flavors, hers would be bitter almonds and coffee grounds.
You can be strapped to the most stable chair and still feel the world give way beneath you.