Still, your sweet eyes swell with salty seeds of shame.
Three knocks, each one harder than the last.
That was his thing, every time we left for the day. Some days there was even a large pause between each knock. He didn’t think I ever noticed, but I did.
I am a ghost in the city. A full-measure soul, with a secret pact. I see everyone, and hear their thoughts, protect their right to think them.
A satirical post on the benefits of revenge and downfalls of forgiveness.
You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the think
If emotions were an entity and they could communicate with you, what would they say?