Diary of a Book Junkie

I am tired too. It's okay. We will sleep in the car ride over. We will sleep on each other's shoulders. We will sleep upside down and in the laps of new friends and on the bellies of our lovers and in the hands of better tomorrows. We will sleep and we will wake up rested and we will wake up happy and we will wake up home again.

I love you, get up. It's time to write "maybe next time" on our gravesite. It's time to write: it could not kill me, I would not die. It's time to write a love letter to the sun and our one-act play and the history of our keychains. It is time to write a future where despite everything, we are finally warm and safe.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

 Her Name Is Lychee And She Has Lots of Questions About Everything

"Why is life so hard? What’s wrong with eating lizards? How come I don’t get tuna? Why does my poop always disappear? How come mama never wants to play at 4 in the morning? Why am I not allowed to go into the neighbour’s house? Does my butt look big?"