I am swallowing books. Gulping them down. Barely chewing. Words get stuck in my teeth and whole characters at the back of my throat. Sentences dribble in my oesophagus. Too fast, I sometimes choke. Choke on whole worlds, tiny universes. It's all sticky pages and blinding syntaxes. Craving, craving more. They might go away, they might go away... I want only stories to fill the spaces between my veins, and a library between my lungs.
Quote via MJ