“But when you’re a kid, it isn’t chaos. It’s just a heartbeat. Your house isn’t floating through space, it sits on the ground. Once you get old enough you start to see that color is just paint and doors are… — Ryan Galloway Copy Share Image
“Tears sting my eyes once more, building up and rolling over my cheeks with the heat of a dying star. Isn’t that what death… — Ryan Galloway Copy Share Image
“Nerve endings. That’s what it all comes down to. Billions of rooted synapses, like trees entwined in erratic soil. Lightning strikes every millionth of… — Ryan Galloway Copy Share Image
“Maybe the problem with holding onto memories so tightly is that they don’t allow us to make room for the future. Maybe the gentle… — Ryan Galloway Copy Share Image
“I wonder if this is how it feels to grow old. Knowing that time is still passing but you’re no longer a part of… — Ryan Galloway Copy Share Image
“How much dust can a body make? Little specks of death. Measuring life in millimeters.” — Ryan Galloway Copy Share Image
“I don’t have to let anyone use me. I don’t have to bend the truth. Even if I’m not ready to forgive just yet,… — Ryan Galloway Copy Share Image
“But when you’re a kid, it isn’t chaos. It’s just a heartbeat. Your house isn’t floating through space, it sits on the ground. Once… — Ryan Galloway Copy Share Image
“Every heartbeat a syllable for words I can’t speak, to explain what I want from him. What I want from myself. To know and… — Ryan Galloway Copy Share Image
“It was true—but it was harsh. And it feels like maybe a harsh truth can be as hurtful as a lie.” — Ryan Galloway Copy Share Image
