I am not a book, my title is not tattooed along my spine;
My life is not broken into easy increments like chapters. It does not flow. I cannot be studied line by line, and my thoughts, themes, ideas, and beliefs cannot be so easily dissected.
But I am like a book, my skin is thin as paper. Ink, not blood, pumps my heart. Open my skull, memories are written in small type, along the fractures.
I’m shaking from anger.
miss when we use to talk more ; A;
I miss that too, dear.
no you're an amazing little shit head <3 :DD
, not the good kind.
how I can still find some humor in this situation.