We Were Supposed To Grow Old Together,

He Wanted To Ask Her What Sound A Heart Made When It Broke From Pleasure, When Just The Sight Of Someone Filled You The Way Food, Blood, And Air Never Could, When You Felt As If You'd Been Born For Only One Moment And This, For Whatever Reason, Was It.

What Molds Us Is What Maims Us.

If You Are Deemed Insane, Then All Actions That Would Oherwise Prove You Are Not Do, In Actuality, Fall Into The Framework Of An Insane Person’s Actions. Your Sound Protests Constitute Denial. Your Valid Fears Are Deemed Paranoia. Your Survival Instincts Are Labeled Defense Mechanisms. It’s A No-win Situation. It’s A Death Penalty Really.

Grief, I Swear To God, Doesn't Live In The Heart. It Lives In The Senses. And Sometimes, All I Want To Do Is Cut Off My Nose So I Can't Smell Her, Hack My Fingers Off At The Joint.

There's Something Ugly About The Flawless.