"And every day, the world will drag you by the hand, yelling, “This is important! And this is important! And this is important! You need to worry about this! And this! And this!” And each day, it’s up to you to yank your hand back, put it on your heart and say, “No. This is what’s important.”"
"Someone asked me what home was and all I could think of were the stars on the tip of your tongue, the flowers sprouting from your mouth, the roots entwined in the gaps between your fingers, the ocean echoing inside of your ribcage."
It is so hard to watch one of the dearest people in the world to you suffer like this. Let alone four. When you’re happy, you forget the soul crushing desolation of heartbreak. No, that doesn’t cut it. ‘Heartbreak’ is such a spectrum, and this is right at the interminable-feeling-of-despair-and-nausea end. This is life as you know it and your identity shattered. This is grief and mental illness and surrealism in one dizzy concoction that serves to render you breathless when you wake and remember that it wasn’t just a dream.
I want to take all of their pain away. I want to magnify how I’m feeling by adding theirs on top just to help them cope as each new day rolls around. Please let us get through this together.
"She tastes like nectar and salt. Nectar and salt and apples. Pollen and stars and hinges. She tastes like fairy tales. Swan maiden at midnight. Cream on the tip of a fox’s tongue. She tastes like hope."
"You lucky, lucky girl. You have an apartment just your size. A bathtub full of tea. A heart the size of Arizona, but not nearly so arid. Don’t wish away your cracked past, your crooked toes, your problems are papier mache puppets you made or bought because the vendor at the market was so compelling you just had to have them. You had to have him. And you did. And now you pull down the bridge between your houses, you make him call before he visits, you take a lover for granted, you take a lover who looks at you like maybe you are magic. Make the first bottle you consume in this place a relic. Place it on whatever altar you fashion with a knife and five cranberries. Don’t lose too much weight. Stupid girls are always trying to disappear as revenge. And you are not stupid. You loved a man with more hands than a parade of beggars, and here you stand. Heart like a four-poster bed. Heart like a canvas. Heart leaking something so strong they can smell it in the street."
"And that’s the thing about people who mean everything they say. They think everyone else does too."
You think it’s cool to hate things. And it’s not. It’s boring. Talk about what you love and keep quiet about what you don’t."