You can build walls all the way to the sky and I will find a way to fly above them.

Still, the vivid green of the grass-where the grass is actually managing to assert itself through the dirt-seems out of place. This seems like a place where the sun should never shine: a place on the edge, at the limit, a place completely removed from time and happiness and life.

And when it started to get dark you pointed to the sky, and told me there was a star for every thing you loved about me.

I need to live my life in the light of their deaths. I need to live.

I’ve been trying so hard not to think his name, not to even breathe the idea of him

This is the world we live in, a world of safety and happiness and order, a world without love. A world where children crack their heads on stone fireplaces and nearly gnaw off their tongues and the parents are concerned. Not heartbroken, frantic, desperate. Concerned, as they are when you fail mathematics, as they are when they are late to pay their taxes.

This was what being cured was like: like being in a fishbowl, circling always inside the same glass.