The cemetery is my sense of comfort, my sanctuary in a world of darkness, the one piece of light that i have in my life.

In the midst of a foggy field, the answers are hidden But the impossible journey deems them forbidden. The Reaper of Death, the Angel of Life. They walk together in day and night.

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

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.

There is something about someone trusting you enough with their secrets that it makes it easier to trust them. It’s like they’re opening their heart and in return yours should open up to them, too.

People say that time heals all wounds, and maybe they're right. But whit if the wounds don't heal correctly, like when cuts leave behind nasty scars, or when broken bones mend together, but aren't as smooth anymore? Does it mean they're really healed? Or is it that the body did what it could to fix what broke.

That'd be walking into dangerous territory," he says, getting up from the sofa. "Luke is not a morning person.