That is death - shifting from "is" to "was.

Everything inside me screams for just one more kiss, one more word, one more glance, one more.

Uriah drops his tray next to me. It is loaded with beef stew and chocolate cake. I stare at the cake pile. “There was cake?” I say, looking at my own plate, which is more sensibly stocked than Uriah’s. “Yeah, someone just brought it out. Found a couple boxes of the mix in the back and baked it,” he says. “You can have a few bites of mine.” “A few bites? So you’re planning on eating that mountain of cake by yourself?” “Yes.” He looks confused. “Why?” “Never mind.

I'll have to keep looking for more of them, more brief moments of freedom in a world that refuses to allow it.

In some parts of the ancient world, the hawk symbolized the sun. Back when I got this, I figured if I always had the sun on me, I wouldn't be afraid of the dark

I keep finding myself stifled by the company of others and then crippled by loneliness when I leave them. I am terrified and I don't even know of what, because I have lost everything already.

I think you're still the only person sharp enough to sharpen someone like me.