healingrather than dousing yourself with cheap perfume wait for the cleansing tide to sweep the musk of hurt away
bare minimumit saddens me how much praise we lavish on men who tread within the lines we draw as if they were not merely behaving exactly as they should
the weaverin time, as the blanket of fate unfolds, you will learn to marvel at the brilliant patterns woven by an out of sight master.
on writingthis is the slow kind of work the kind that smoulders beneath the surface of my heart-mind lava in waiting the kind that doesn’t feel...
the marketsdictate that what you can’t give i should get from someone else but i must admit you have somewhat of a monopoly on me
goodbyesi must say, it gives me immense satisfaction, the way you can’t seem to stop kissing me whenever you leave.