Sometimes I Lie

by Alice Feeney

We are all made of flesh and stars, but we all become dust in the end. Best to shine while you can.

we all die in the end, I suppose. Life is more terrifying than death in my experience. There’s little point fearing something so inevitable.

History is a mirror and we’re all just older versions of ourselves; children disguised as adults.

We are all just ghosts of the people we hoped that we were and counterfeit replicas of the people we wanted to be.