How is it possible, I think, to change so much and not be able to change anything at all?

anything, anything is possible, if you can just see the sky.

But maybe you carried your demons with you everywhere, the way you carried your shadow.

He Is looking at me through the smoke, across the fence. He never takes his eyes off me. His hair Is a crown of leaves, of thorns, of flames. His eyes are blazing with light, more light than all the lights in every city in the whole world, more light than we could ever invent If we had ten thousand billion years.

And then, just at that moment, when I'm no longer sure if I'm dreaming or awake or walking some valley in between where everything you wish for comes true, I feel the flutter of his lips on mine.

He is my world and my world is him and without him there is no world.

Until, one day, she wasn’t.