I Would Have Written You, Myself, If

I Am Tired Of Trying To Hold Things Together That Cannot Be Held. Trying To Control What Cannot Be Controlled. I Am Tired Of Denying Myself What I Want For Fear Of Breaking Things I Cannot Fix. They Will Break No Matter What We Do.

“nothing's Impossible,” Poppet Responds. She Smiles At Him And Jumps, Her Red Hair Trailing Out Behind Her As She Falls.

And There Are Never Really Endings, Happy Or Otherwise. Things Keep Going On, They Overlap And Blur, Your Story Is Part Of Your Sister's Story Is Part Of Many Other Stories, And There Is No Telling Where Any Of Them May Lead.

I Have You Here, All Around Me. I Sit In The Ice Garden To Get A Hint Of This, This Way That You Make Me Feel. I Felt It Even Before I Knew Who You Were, And Every Time I Think It Could Not Possibly Get Any Stronger, It Does.

That's The Beauty Of It. Have You Seen The Contraptions These Magicians Build To Accomplish The Most Mundane Feats? They Are A Bunch Of Fish Covered In Feathers Trying To Convince The Public They Can Fly, I Am Simply A Bird In Their Midst.