In the end the only one you'll always have is you.

They tell me to forgive and forget because it is about time I grow past it But at what age does forgiving become easy and at what age will forgetting help me forgive?

You can’t truly love someone until you’ve seen the ugly, rotting part of them.

Your problems are only as big as you believe them to be.

They tell me to forgive and forget because it is about time I grow past it But at what age does forgiving become easy and at what age will forgetting help me forgive?

Is it hopeless of me to desire so badly to get reckless and water flowers in my destruction? I lie here, waiting in a white walled room chanting that I am saving myself for someone good, someone special, someone who is strong enough to break through the barrier but soft enough to keep me. There is no one. Because - isn’t it stupid? Even if there was, I would push them away also. Do you know what it’s like to be so deeply afraid of loving and being loved, yet craving it so endlessly? I live in a world with a one way door. Only I may leave, because if anyone ever left me first, I would numb myself by taking glass and writing scripture on the walls with my blood. This is not solitude, this is loneliness. It is a loneliness I have created for myself because I want something I am afraid of. Even to those I treasure, I shoot words like spilling arrows. All of this drives me to the edge. It lures me to fuck it, fuck up, fuck anyone. But I can’t, because this is all I have. I have been searching for the right person to share it with. It just seems, I will have to dry press roses in a bed of love letters never meant for anyone.

She’s just walking but still looks like a flawless queen.