His three wives are huddled together on the bare mattress, one of them dying; when we're together, we form an alliance he can't touch. He's scared to even try.

I shake my head, watching snow tumble and swirl from an all-white sky. The world seems so clean if you only look up

I'm suddenly finding it hard to know the difference between nightmares and consciousness.

There is a dark place calling to me, but I will not go just yet. I know I can't return from it.

Everyone should remember being born. It doesn't seem fair that we only remember dying.

The world seems so clean if you only looked up.

Write words you’re willing to burn at the stake for. Write words you’d believe in even if the rest of the world didn’t.