.

Where could I rest but in your hurricane?

Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red.

I was always ashamed to take. So I gave. It was not a virtue. It was a disguise.

I’m not totally mad at you. I’m just sad. You’re all locked up in that little world of yours, and when I try knocking on the door, you just sort of look up for a second and go right back inside.

The summer was over, I decided to end the whole charade.

Nothing is built on stone; All is built on sand, but we must build as if the sand were stone.

I dream of a language whose words, like fists, would fracture jaws.

I was quiet but I wasn’t blind

It is better to be alone than to allow someone else to split your self-worth into pieces, and watch you recollect yourself again.

Waiting is painful. Forgetting is painful. But not knowing which to do is the worst kind of suffering.