The moment you realize that your brain is not nearly big enough for all the memories you’d like to keep.
Sometimes you just need to hold yourself, because there’s a lot in you that you’re afraid of slipping out; the sad little things that sit in the corners of your heart asking to be analyzed like fossils from a prehistoric age. It’s alright. My body is a museum that I have kept well preserved, and my insides are stories of the animals - the friends, lovers and strangers - that have made wreckage here. I breathe in and out to keep the wild ghosts at bay. I will not slip up yet.