Not dead-dying. Funny how two things could be so similar and yet so far apart

World of words lost on the living / I take my place with the walking dead / Robbed of my voice I'm always giving / Thousands of words to this nameless dread.

I was suddenly struck by how dissimilar we were. It occurred to me that if Grace and I were objects, she would be an elaborate digital clock, synced up with the World Clock in London with technical perfection, and I’d be a snow globe – shaken memories in a glass ball.

But by blood, no wolf am I

In his head, his mother said, 'People shout when they don’t have the vocabulary to whisper'.

If I were a tree, I would have no reason to love a human.

I think every now and then about Sean’s thumb pressed against my wrist and daydream about him touching me again. But mostly I think about the way he looks at me – with respect – and I think that’s probably worth more than anything.