“Home almost, atleast where words cut your lip & I spokeyou together & then back apart.”

“Lately, I have been having nightmares, where I'm cut into so many pieces that there isn't enough of me to be put back together.”

“This becomes the pattern of being alive: cut apart, heal together, cut apart, heal together. Everything breaks down into smaller and smaller pieces, but I'm still able to call them all in, know their names, keep track of them.”

“I may tear you apart but I'll put you back together.”

“I was all put back together, but had never felt more torn apart.”

“Home. It's such a simple word, one I never knew would come to mean as much to me as it has. It once was my dad's house, then my uncle's farm. Mostly it's meant wherever Charlie and I were together. Now, though, it's you. It's your letters, your words. They're the place I go to with my fears, where I find comfort, where I feel safe.”