Destructive

“You must allow yourself to outgrow and depart from certain eras of your life with a gentle sort of ruthlessness.”

“I love you wildly, insanely, infinitely.”

When I look at other teens,

When I look at other people,

Persephone: *is slightly troubled by anything*

Could it be that Persephone was the butterfly with drunk Hades?

“But the first lesson reading teaches is how to be alone.”

“If we could be satisfied with anything, we should have been satisfied long ago.”

“But how could you live and have no story to tell?”

Hey guys!

Love, to me, is a private conversation. Love, to me, is a secret I don't tell everyone. Love, to me, is personal like pain, or poetry. Love, to me, is an expensive commodity I don't like to share. Tell me, if you had the shiniest pearl in the world, would you share it? Don't answer. I know you will lie. Just like I do. When they ask me about you. They giggle and talk, some find it curious, others outright antisocial. But I let them giggle. And talk. If it gives them joy. Because they don't know love, not the kind I experience, the kind that makes a grown man cry listening to a violin. The kind that makes priests bow down their heads in front of a stone idol. The kind that makes you content. The kind that makes you stop running. And sit down and relax. Love, to me, is a breeze on a hot summer day.

How can I keep safe a heart that wants to fly? How to keep warm a heart that desires to be laid completely bare? How can I keep it from the flame when all it does is long to burn?

““If you can see the light at the end of the tunnel, make sure it’s not the flames from the bridges you’ve burnt.””

““The empty swing set reminds us of this– that bad won’t be bad forever, and what is good can sometimes last a long, long time.””