Fate Has A Strange Way Of Making

People Are Always Separable.

You Spend So Much Time, So Much Effort, Trying To Hold Yourself Together. And Then Everything Falls Apart Anyway.

That Whole Week, We Started To Divide Things Into Those Two Categories: Anything Or Something. A Piece Of Jewelry Bougth At A Department Store: Anything. A Piece Of Jewelry Made By Hand: Something. A Dollar: Anything. A Sand Dollar: Something. A Gift Certificate: Anything. An Iou For Two Hours Of Starwatching: Something. A Drunk Kiss At A Party: Anything. A Sober Kiss Alone In A Park: Something.

Why Won't They Leave Me Alone? Don't They Realize I Have A Tinder Heart And A Paper Body And That Any Spark Will Turn Me Straight To Ash?

I Have Already Spent Roughly Five Thousand Hours Asleep Next To You. This Has To Mean Something.