“I wish I could put his words in my pocket just to touch them once in a while and remind myself that they exist.”

“I like when he tells me that he likes the way I feel because it goes against what I've heard my entire life and I wish I could put his words in my pocket just to touch them once in a while and remind myself that they exist.”

“I wish I could stuff my mouth full of raindrops and fill my pockets full of snow. I wish I could trace the veins in a fallen leaf and the feel the wind pinch my nose.”

“Sometimes I wish I could step outside of myself for a while. I want to leave this worn body behind, but my chains are too many, my weights too heavy.”

“I'm checking my pockets for spare words and sentences but I'm finding none, not an adverb, not a preposition or even a dangling participle because there doesn't exist a single response to such an outlandish request.”

“I wish someone would remind me how to breathe.”

“I tuck caution into my pocket and hope I can reach for it if I need to.”