If I ever leave this place- I'll make sure I'm better HERE first.
The day was gray, the color of Europe.
Smile with instinct, then lick your wounds in the darkest of dark corners. Trace the scars back to your own fingers and remember them.
You're far from this. This story is just another few hundred pages of your mind.
I always marvel at the humans' ability to keep going. They always manage to stagger on even with tears streaming down their faces.
The pages and the words are my world, spread out before your eyes and for your hand to touch. Vaguely, I can see you face looking down into me, as I look back. Do you see my eyes?