I'll be your mess, you be mine That was the deal that we had signed

I can’t imagine what it would be like to have had her company in my head—the comfort that would’ve brought.

I want to make her cry and then lick up the tears.

But seventeen is an inconvenient time to fall in love.

Because I understand all the ways of trying to escape, how sometimes you escape one prison only to find you've built yourself a different one.

Sleep would be so welcome. A warm blanket of black to erase everything else. Sleep without dreams.

(P)eople’s good intentions can wind up putting us in boxes as confining as coffins.