When it all comes down to it, it’s just me and her against the world. Always has been.

So I let my shame own me, kill me, wilt me away into a thousand dead flakes, knowing if I kept it all in, she would never have to learn the dirtiness that was forever inside me--the bad, the ugly, the twisted. She could go on living her life happy, just like she deserved.

You're like my favorite song, Nova. The one that I never want to forget. That I want to play over and over again.

Everyone will hurt you if you let them in.

How can you want to touch me after what I did?" "How can I ever not want to touch you?

I sometimes feel like life is just one big test to see how long we can survive.

There are no accusations with writing, no judgment, no shame, only freedom.