Danielle Esplin

There__ an undeniable thrill about meeting a stranger and spending a few hours together, indulging in each other__ lives. It__ that spurt of saying whatever you want and leaving it behind with someone who__l never look at you and think of it again.

Ever since her diagnosis, she__ been fading like a light bulb with cancer__ hand on the rotary dimmer.

I hate reading poems__chool made me hate them. I__ spend hours interpreting one, just to read the memorandum and realize I__ be fucked during exams. I remember making a little asterisk next to every question I struggled with, and at the end of the paper, I__ realize I was looking at the fucking Milky Way.

It__ all about that cosy, homey feeling, the one you leave behind when you travel across the world.

The void inside me starts to fill, but my heart has holes, and whatever it holds will run out, leaving me empty once again.

The ocean fascinates me too. How it connects everything and everyone, but at the same time it divides us. It__ a mystery, full of life and possibilities. It__ just_phenomenal.

He might not be here, but the day he misses an opportunity to party is the day Jocelyn Wildenstein is considered the paragon of beauty.

It__ as if everyone got cancer the day I was diagnosed, except I__ their tumor.

Father", that sounds too dominant, too stern or Mufasa-like _ he__ a coward, a low-budget, hand-fucking coward.

Since her diagnoses she has been fading like a light bulb with cancer__ hand on the rotary dimmer.

It__ like I__ on a roller-coaster ride, but I__ not allowed to get off. I__ strapped to the seat, and within eyesight the unfinished twirl of the track swirls into the air.

Many nights I watch the sun set. Many nights I watch the moon. They fascinate me. They__e the only things I get to share with everyone: the stars, the moon, the universe.

I guess we__e all guilty at some point of failing to appreciate the small things, because when we use a broad brush to paint our exemplary lives, we splatter ourselves with ignorance.

I can hear the tick tick tick in my head: A tripwire ready to explode in fury. And then, in my mind, I start to count down from ten_any moment now.

Have you ever loved someone so much that even when they chip pieces away from you, you still try to give them what__ left? I know I have_ I know I do.

A familiar sensation sparks inside me, the one I had a few years ago, the one that hurts because it__ dangerous and overwhelming. Knowing how it is to truly love someone is torturous. You try to bury that feeling. So you become lonely, deprived, and when you sense anything remotely like it, the emotion comes back to haunt you. It__ one sick fucking game.