It's as if a child with a brush and too much enthusiasm has been set free with a tin of black paint inside me.

I said I wouldn't leave her.

It hurts and hurts to have him this close. I feel sick with it.

It's as if a child with a brush and too much enthusiasm has been set free with a tin of black paint inside me.

Every seven years our bodies change, every cell. Every seven years, we disappear.

I love you. It hurts more than anything ever has, but I do. So don't you dare tell me I don't. Don't you ever say it again!

I've always wanted to be a cat. Warm and domesticated when you want to be, wild when you don't.