I think I finally understand the saying like a moth to a flame. I’m the moth. My heart flutters like the paper thin wings. And he is the flame, incendiary, scorching my soul.He inhales so...

There’s something familiar about the curve of her lower lip. The weight cradled by a soft, slender chin. The bow of her top lip sweeps across it in a way that makes me think of...

I think you healed me.”He says it so simply, but my mind takes his words and scatters them like ashes. I feel like I’m waking from a coma and I have amnesia and everyone speaks...