My heart is a protest that I let rally against my ribs.

I was never meant to be this thing.

My heart is a protest that I let rally against my ribs.

We come from the mentality, that rarely sees the horror in symmetry or the beauty in non-conformity

What I said was I’ll miss you what I meant to say was I love you what I wanted to say was that I meant what I said and it’s funny how all those things I could have said flooded my head after we said goodbye and I should have told you I’d be willing to hold you until my flesh crumbles into bone because I’m willing to die alone but god knows I don’t want to live that way.

This is my voice. There are many like it, but this one is mine.

Scrape the grey sky clean. Realize every grey cloud is a smoke screen to blind us from the truth, and the truth is whether we see them or not the sun and moon are still there, and always there is light.