What kind of wound have you made your mind to be? What kind of violence, what kind of brutality has resided deep inside your gray matter? And you nursed it like a drink, nurtured it, allowed it to grow and bloom,

Sometimes the person you’d take a bullet for is behind the trigger.

She wanted help, but when someone tried to give her a hand, it looked like the hand of the devil. ...lf this was some kind of disease, what a horribly depressing disease it was...

What kind of gravestone are you? What kind of epitaph is etched into your soul? What kind of exit wound are you?? From a knife, a bullet? A stake right through the chest?

From day one I talked about getting out, but not forgetting about how my worst fears are letting out.

Hell is filled with broken dreams and I know the doorman personally. Gemini mind all the time, which side is riding in the hearse with me?

I felt so helpless then. I was so hurt, and so lonely. But you helped me! You saved me! Now, I feel safe… You make me feel safe.

See myself at the pearly gates, waiting for a room with a view. “Go away”, but the tombstones say “Oh, how your past catches up with you.”

Do you know what it’s like..? To bear this curse, to carry this cross? Do you know how it feels? Do you wake up screaming? Do you claw at your own chest? Sometimes I want to die, thinking that it’s for the best. Will my love be where I left it? Will my pallbearers be the same as my best friends?

How do I put it into words? You’re…you’re everything to me. I love you, immensely. Endlessly. I would die for you…but I’d also live for you. I’d improve for you. You make me want to be a better person, the absolute best version of myself! I’m so grateful for you, truly.

I would crawl into your skin like a roach on a plate; give us stitches and pins ‘til we can’t separate. You’re the king of the world; I’m a moth to your flame. I would kill to be yours…do you love me the same?

I love you so much that it hurts. Sometimes excruciatingly so. I choke on the adoration; your kind words feel like daggers. Each syllable drips with venom, even though you are being supportive. But I know that without you, I wouldn’t be able to go on.

There is love in me the likes of which you’ve never seen.

Disconnect and self-destruct one bullet at a time. What’s the rush now? Everyone will have his day to die.

Let our bodies lay, mark our hearts with shame. Let our blood in vain, you find God in pain.

It is the pinnacle of human emotion. Much warmer than hope, far deeper than despair— love.

If you were church, I’d get on my knees. Confess my love, I’d know where to be. My sanctuary, you’re holy to me.

As long as I can make them laugh—it doesn't matter how—I'll be alright. If I succeed in that, the human beings probably won't mind it too much if I remain outside their lives. The one thing I must avoid is becoming offensive in their eyes: I shall be nothing; the wind, the sky.

You can’t wake up, this is not a dream. You’re part of a machine, you are not a human being with your face all made up, living on a screen Low on self-esteem, so you run on gasoline.

I’ve been wallowing in my own confused and insecure delusions for a piece to cross me over, or a word to guide me in.

My shadow’s shedding skin I’ve been picking scabs again I’m down, digging through my old muscles looking for a clue

“I knew that it was cruel to be so optimistic, but, in my solitude, I couldn't resist the urge and spent entire days basking in idiotic fantasies, sometimes verging on prayer.” Mieko Kawakami, 'Heaven'

Let our bodies lay, mark our hearts with shame. Let our blood in vain; you find God in pain.

Alright this account is now for borderline personality disorder bot posts!