Her mind is a bird that's trapped inside her skull, flapping and thrashing, never breaking free.

The world seems so clean if you only looked up.

The seeds are tiny, unborn things, and I resent them. They'll be planted and they'll grow into exactly what they're meant to be.

You’re insane, you know that?” he says. “It’s the only thing keeping me afloat,” I say.

Someday I'll tell you all of it," I say. "I'd like that," he says. "No," I say. "I promise you won't.

I wish I had a memory of that first violent shove, the shock of cold air, the sting of oxygen into new lungs. Everyone should remember being born. It doesn't seem fair that we only remember dying.

Momentum,' She repeats. 'You can't just stand there if you want something to fly. You have to run.