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Photo on 2013-02-23 at 18
when she was a little girl
and words never meant a thing
he accidentally marked her
with the black ink of his hatred
as he wrote the words of his passion
upon the naïve velvet of her skin (more)
i can't help but think
that if i were to wither away
into nothing but dust
this iron grip would let go
and i would finally be at ease
it’s tradition
for a woman to take
a man’s hand
but what if
for some reason
somehow (more)
it chokes me until
i can’t breathe, think, function
then it comes for more
when i was little
i used to collect shells at the beach
i saved all the little broken half moons
in a little white pile in the sand
i'd keep them far away from the raging tide
whose cold bit at my toes (more)
when my mother is on her knees
with her hands clasped and shaking
and her eyes squeezed shut in concentration
I know she prays for me

when tears leak through those clenched eyes (more)
my heart is a
window with the
shades drawn tight

impossible to look into
but not entirely difficult to (more)
in your head
it must be perfectly ok
to whisper words of love
and songs of forever
and leave the next day
I live my life with a red string tied around my finger. A constant reminder of my mistakes, my inadequacies, and my failure.
"Never trust," it chides me.
"You aren't worth anything," it reasons.
"You're unlovable, and don't pretend otherwise." (more)
i have a habit
of warning people
against the cold
and ushering them
into layers upon
layers of jackets and (more)
I used to think
that no matter who you are
what you look like
or what your past holds

everyone deserves to be happy
if i could catch
all the light refracted
from your eyes i
would have enough
to light this world of
darkness that i'm (more)
just another something
that everyone seems to know how to do
another imperfection
that sets me apart from the others
something i’m far too used to
being less able (more)
She was motionless, or rather, rendered incapable of movement. What good would it do her in the end? She would act, repent, act, repent, forever trapped in the endless cycle that drove her mad.

She was alone. For once, it wasn’t a product of her needless self-isolation. She(more)
You found me crumpled
picked me up
dusted me off
and loved me anyways