Insane for your sweet, sweet love!

Raindrops are my only reminder that clouds have a heartbeat. That I have one, too.

Torture is not torture when there’s any hope of relief.

Books are easily destroyed. But words will live as long as people can remember them.

His lips soften into a smile that cracks apart my spine. He repeats my name like the word amuses him. Entertains him. Delights him. In seventeen years no one has said my name like that

I want to smash this concrete world into oblivion. I want to be bigger, better, stronger. I want to be the bird that flies away.

And we are quotation marks, inverted and upside down, clinging to one another at the end of this life sentence. Trapped by lives we did not choose.