I hate this feeling. Like I'm here, but I'm not. Like someone cares. But they don't.
Like I belong somewhere else, anywhere but here, and escape lies just past that snowy window, cool and crisp as the February air.
Love means holding on to someone just as hard as you can because if you don't, one blink and they might disappear...forever.
Taking no chances means wasting your dreams.
Forever has no meaning when you're living in the moment. I wasn't ready for that moment to end.
This time when we kiss, I feel it in the pit of my stomach, I feel it in my heart. And I realize love isn't about sex. It's about connection.
Have you ever once in your life reached out to touch infinity.
Grandma once told me it's easy to overthink love, to dissect it and question it until it is no more.
Wish you could turn off the questions, turn off the voices, turn off all sound.
Yearn to close out the ugliness, close out the filthiness, close out all light.
Long to cast away yesterday, cast away memory, cast away all jeapordy.
Pray you could somehow stop uncertainty, somehow stop the loathing, somehow stop the pain.
Life is all about change. If it were static, think about how boring it would be. You can't be afraid of it, and you can't worry that you'll mess things up. You deserve good things, and I want to be one of them.
One foot in front of the other, counting tiles on the floor so I don't have to focus the blur of painted smiles, fake faces.
Funny how when your life is mostly bullshit, you turn off feeling. Sometimes it's hard to turn it back on again.