How we need another soul to cling to.
The trouble was, I had been inadequate all along, I simply hadn't thought about it.
The sheets grow heavy as a lecher's kiss.
Dying Is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well.
If you expect nothing from anybody, you’re never disappointed.
Is it the sea you hear in me? Its dissatisfactions? Or the voice of nothing, that was your madness? Love is a shadow. How you lie and cry after it.