“I breathe onto a mirror just to make sure I’m still alive, and to see how good looking my breath is.”

“I breathe slowly and deeply. I make my eyes still under eyelids, I make my mind still, and soon, Sleep, seeing a perfect reproduction of himself, comes to be united with his facsimile.”

“I think i'm just breathing, that's all. And there's a difference between breathing and being alive.”

“I've been looking in the mirror for so long.That I've come to believe my souls on the other side.Oh the little pieces falling, shatter.Shards of me,To sharp to put back together.To small to matter,But big enough to cut me into so many little pieces.If I try to touch her,And I bleed,I bleed,And I breathe,I breathe no more. Take a breath and I try to draw from my spirits well.Yet again you refuse to drink like a stubborn child.Lie to me,Convince me that I've been sick forever.And all of this,Will make sense when I get better.I know the difference,Between myself and my reflection.I just can't help but to wonder,Which of us do you love.So I bleed,I bleed,And I breathe,I breathe now...Bleed,I bleed,And I breathe,I breathe,I breathe-I breathe no more.”

“His noise is getting quieter, but I can still see it there still-See how he feels the skin of my hand against his, see how he wants to take it and press it against his mouth, how he wants to breathe in the smell of me and how beautiful I look to him, how strong after all that illness, and how he wants to just lightly touch my neck, just there, and how he wants to take me in his arms and-"Oh, God," he says, looking away suddenly. "Viola, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"But I just put my hand to the back of his neck-And he says, "Viola-?"And I pull myself towards him-And I kiss him.And it feels like, finally.”

“I still love you, Pidge.”She didn’t look up. “Don’t. I’m not doing this for you.”I sucked in a breath, physical pain shooting in all directions in my chest. “I know.”