scorp

My heart is lonely. Though it feels like like a gaping hole. I wish for everything I can’t have...if only...Filled to the brim with ashes and coal

Real romance isn't something hopeless, or unenergetic like stale poetry, or futile like canned compliments.

I revel in the torment of my inability to comprehend the whole. 

We all sit on a throne of lies.

Music is the art of healing.

The choice is yours.

Curse or gift? Can this mind reading turn you into a monster? Yes, yes it can.

a teenage dream.

Writer's blocks suck.

random diary entry. enjoy

For someone special.

Part 2 of Timed 8 days...8 days to live...