I wanted to pull down a book, open it proper, and gobble up page after page
Melancholy held me hostage, and the bees built a hive of sadness in my soul.
The best time to talk to ghosts is just before the sun comes up. That's when they can hear us true.
She cannot chain my soul. Yes, she could hurt me. She'd already done so...I would bleed, or not. Scar, or not. Live, or not. But she could not hurt my soul, not unless I gave it to her.
