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the princess i was born a little bookmad. i could be found stroking the spines of my books while i sat locked alone inside my tower bedroom.
salt. that is what abuse is: knowing you are going to get salt but still hoping for sugar for nineteen years.
there was never enough alcohol to keep my mother warm in a house as cold as t h i s.
you were not meant to be a can of ashes on your mother’s bedside table. after all, you were the one who always burned the brightest.
the seashell up to my ear, not with the anticipation of hearing the crash of the ocean waves but with the crushing hope of catching even the smallest note of your voice one last time.
a girl unable to bring herself to cry because if she finally cries then that means it really happened.
sometimes i think it would be better if someone cut the whole tree down & started anew.
i am caught between mourning you & thinking your death saved me.
am so glad we were born during the same lifetime. - i may not believe in fate, but i believe in you.
when i see your light pieces with my dark pieces, i begin to understand why they say opposites attract.
he did not teach me how to love myself, but he was the bridge that helped me get here.
when i die, do not waste a minute mourning me. i may go, but i will leave behind all my thousand & one lives.
i hope you can find it in your heart to be proud of the woman i have become in spite of you.
a world where all human beings are taken care of shouldn’t be called a “revolutionary” way of life & yet it is.
i’m pretty sure you have s t a r d u s t running through those v e i n s. - women are some kind of magic.
wouldn’t you think it a crime to look up at the night sky & tell the stars that they have no sparkle?
you deserve someone who makes you feel like the otherworldly creature you are.
