hide and seekeveryone looks to the starsfor inspirationbut maybe if we focused moreon the grains of sandbeneath our feet we mightjust find something a littlemore original
she didn't believe in anything but cigarettesmy mother tells me notto cry over spilled milkbut it makes it so mucheasier to forget aboutthe bloody bird layingdead on the bathroom tile
seaside lettersone.i was never good at starting these thingstwo.did you know some flowersonly open at night?they must not be very afraidof the darki wish i could say the samethree.i can't light my candle anymore,maybe it's telling methat i should stop tryingi didn't really like that blisteron my thumb anywaysfour.i noticed that my veinswere the same color as the oceanand i made myself bleedmy veins lied and blood is red, not bluei guess i just thought i was differentfive.i wish you could read thesesix.i don't know how to write anymoreand i always knew this would happen sometime.but god why now?i still haven't figured out what i wanted to sayseven.this will be my last letter to youand i thought i'd let you knowthat i will never know what i wanted to sayi was never really good at ending these either
NotI want to pluck off every one of her petals and leave behind the shell of a flower.He loves me. I want to rip out every piece of his hairand make him ugly,so she won't call him beautiful anymore.He loves me not.