You really need stitches," she tells me."Or you're going to have a scar." I try not to laugh. Stitches aren't going to help. They fix skin, cuts, wounds, heal stuff on the outside. Everything broken with me is on the inside. "I can handle scars, especially one's on the outside.

I've been at the place where it seems like the only way left is down.

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.

Blinded by the opaque veil of mortality, her eyes are always sealed, like a tomb She wants to know- wants to feel that fire, the brightness of the moon So she searches for light, only to realize its in her, like an ember equipped to ignite.

You're going to get yourself into a lot of trouble." "Why?" "Because of her right there. Do you know what Daisy would do if you ever cheated on her." "Move on to the next guy that told her she has nice tits." "Okay, you're probably right on that one.

I’m pretty certain my worthless heart shatters inside my chest, and she steals one of the pieces. If it didn’t already belong to someone else I probably would have handed her all the pieces right then and there.

I look into his eyes, no longer afraid what's in them, but afriad I'll lose what they carry.