This Is The Trap Of Having Something

I Couldn't Remember Ordinary Moments, Only The Ones That Had Made An Impression. Ordinary Moments Were The Ones That Fell Away First.

The Tenderness Between Two People Can Turn The Air Tender, The Room Tender, Time Itself Tender. As I Step Out Of Bed And Slip On An Oversize Shirt, Everything Around Me Feels Like It's The Temperature Of Happiness.

Because That's The Thing About Mean People: They Make You Think That The World Will Never Work, That There Are Divides That You Will Fall Into If You Approach. It Takes A Whole Lot Of Good People To Fill In The Breach Created By A Single Mean One.

I Have Never Had Anybody Talk To Me Like This. This Is Not A Flirty Sixth-grade Phone Call Or Bantering With Friends Or Words Passed In A Note. I Feel That If My Soul Could Talk It Would Talk Like This.

It's Only A Game If There Is An Absence Of Meaning. And We've Already Gone Too Far For That.