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Kindle Notes & Highlights
My heart is an animal—a chameleon, to be specific. It changes skin and color, not to blend in, but to be difficult, unreasonable.
Lana Del Rey in the background. I’m addicted to that woman. Seriously, she is a goddess. Every word out of her mouth is gold.
I love Shakespeare. If I manage to write a single poem like him, I’ll die happy.
It says that the unrequited lover is the one who waits.
I’m sticky as sugar and drunk as whiskey.
Because I’m a girl who’s not supposed to be the love of someone’s life, not with my selfishness.
“Oh,” I offer lamely. His definition of a “real” poet doesn’t sit well with me, but what do I know? I’m not even a fake poet.
I’m beginning to think I’m the worst harlot ever.
She rolls her eyes and I feel like I could kiss her from five feet away.