“Seek refuge in the space between my bones.”

Tear me open and rest inside me.

Here I am, a mosaic of becomings.

I am a child of borderlines and we are two lands, carved differently.

For once I want to be something that lasts.

I’m sorry only I can both drown you and be the summer that dries it away.

This foundation can only take the beating of one heart.

When you kissed me you breathed air into my lifeless soul.

I am unbearably human.

The most beautiful parts of your body are those you had to grow again.

Somewhere in these walls we’re still dancing, feeling nostalgic and much too in my head.

Depression is the way my eyes have learnt how to close more than open.

I’ve got nothing left to give but I keep digging deeper.

Read the scars on my body like braille, for I no longer know how to tell a story that belongs deeply to me but is no longer mine.

Living is not living when I am living without you.

Hope lingers like a moon.

I turn moments into poetry.

Patriotism is the last refuge of the scoundrel.

Violence is the last refuge of the incompetent.

We need not take refuge in supernatural gods to explain our saints and sages and heroes and statesmen, as if to explain our disbelief that mere unaided human beings could be that good or wise.

When life is so burdensome death has become a sought after refuge.

Education is an ornament for the prosperous, a refuge for the unfortunate.

Extrapolations are the last refuge of a groundless argument.

I do not consider divorce an evil by any means. It is just as much a refuge for women married to brutal men as Canada was to the slaves of brutal masters.

The God excuse, the last refuge of a man with no answers and no argument.