The whole world is like Whitewall's razors I burst out. It cuts us, and we bleed but there's no purpose to it.

With my partner beside me, I fear nothing, not even death.

You don’t need to be afraid of falling // when there’s someone around to catch you.

He would bear scars because of me, as I carried them for him.

Sometimes broken things heal crooked. The pieces didn’t fit anymore.

I have had passionate kisses and fierce ones, kisses so sweet they tasted like pure honey and kisses that cut like knives, but until this moment, I’ve never had one that said both hello and good-bye.

I’m not a woman you bring home to Mother, pick out china patterns with, or Mary forefend, breed. I’ve seen a chunk of the universe, true, but there’s still so much more to see. I doubt I’ll ever cure this wanderlust, and I’m content with dedicating my life to failing to sate it... He’s never going to sit at my feet and write me poems, which is good because I hate poetry, except dirty ones that rhyme.