Inspiration crackles through my veins like sparkling dynamite. I wish I could forget, but memory is an intricate animal whose organs pulsate with all things lost, each heartbeat a reminder of what we can no longer have. Tiny rabbits sit on my window pane and look outside longingly. The city is glittering magic outside my window and I can remember soft skin and laughter. I scoop a fluffy white rabbit into my palm and whisper, "I'm so sorry. You can go outside again soon enough. But right now there are wolves outside and they would love nothing more than to eat you." She looks at me as if she understands, and now I understand too. I am bound by my memories but I am not confined. I have my words and ink and inspiration - freedom shooting through me like stars.