Two lonely words… I’ve said them a few. They always stare back, when they’re meant for you.
It barely even beats. Doesn’t matter though, now. Given this heart… only to stare at strangers, thinking that for a life’s blink, that stranger could have been you. I tired of being wrong.
Depression is being colourblind and constantly being told how colourful the world is. – Atticus
Beware the person that stabs you and tells the world they’re the one who’s bleeding.