I’m Not The Hana Everyone Told Me

Lies Are Just Stories, And Stories Are All That Matter. We All Tell Stories. Some Are More Truthful Than Others, Maybe, But In The End The Only Thing That Counts Is What You Can Make People Believe.

His Eyes Are The Color Of Honey. These Are The Eyes I Remember From My Dreams.

My Parents Were Pretty Liberal, But They Were Still Parents. I Definitely Had My Teenage Rebellion.

I Think Of The Quietness Of Julian's Voice As He Said I Love You, The Steadiness Of His Rib Cage Rising And Falling Against My Back, As We Sleep.i Love You, Julian. But The Words Don't Come.

I’m Sorry For Everything.” Then He Turns And Pushes Back Into The Woods, And He’s Gone.