And he touched me And I let him love me So let that be my story

People are not rain or snow or autumn leaves; they do not look beautiful when they fall

I was so fucking soft for you and you ruined me.

Oh, please, don’t ask me how I’ve been, don’t make me play pretend

And all I loved, I loved alone.

You should’ve shattered my insecurities, not my heart.

How painful is it to say “i’m fine” to the person who made you feel so broken.

If you’ve been up all night and cried till you have no more tears left in you - you will know that there comes in the end a sort of quietness. You feel as if nothing was ever going to happen again.

I considered suicide, but I felt a strange fondness for my body, my life. Scarred as they were, they were mine.

Is it really that selfish of me to break something else rather than my own heart for one goddamn moment to keep myself whole?