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80 pages, Kindle Edition
First published July 13, 2016













Lay me down where the wildflowers grow and my heart will find its home.

"Maybe if I drive fast enough and far enough, the linear path of time will curve around us, swallow us down in an endless loop."
We are the field of wildflowers, we are the sky, we are the sea, we are this moment, and this moment is ours. And it always will be.
You can't make someone love you or save them from falling hopelessly, uselessly apart, and you can't stop them from dying. Each and every one of us is accountable for ourselves alone.
He searches my face with eyes so dark and so fucking full of trust, even though he has no reason to ever trust me again. Even though I've deserted him, broken promises, rejected him, and betrayed his feelings with a fucking stranger. I close my eyes against the sudden spill of my tears.
Sometimes stories are all we have left. We carry so many of them hidden in the cage of our bodies, written like secrets on the map of our skin. Most of us more scarred than tattooed : the walking wounded, afraid of how our story ends. Some of us find comfort in make-believe, as if the truth there is somehow easier to believe than our own.