Dare to Dream. Live to Write.
I yearn for broken things. For the things that make drunk lovers fall into eachother in the middle of the night and the things that keep them up while the rest of the world is asleep. I love you, I need you to break me, and I don't want you to apologize for it at... Continue Reading →
Glass hearts, so fragile, so easy to break. Broken glass. My heart is shattered. Shards of broken pieces stab my insides. Moving forward hurts. Moving backwards hurts more. Maybe I love the feeling of pain. Maybe I love brokenness and depression because it makes me feel something. Maybe I love getting hurt over and over... Continue Reading →
The Blonde Quill 