I think God cares more about how you treat others than who you sleep with.
Forgive myself for what, exactly, you bastard internal voice?
Home. What does it mean to me? Will I ever know home again?
The road snakes south, then north, ultimately taking us east, and I wonder if life is like that. Go one way, then another, to end up someplace else.
Wishful thinking pretty much always comes back to slap you in the face.
Tying the know means slipping a noose around love and choking it to death.
Back turned, you don’t have to look at what you’ve left behind. And the person who first turned their back on you can’t watch you break down and cry. Never allow an enemy to see weakness in you.
Love is a pain in disguise, a scorpion lying in wait for just the right moment to strike and inject you with its poison before scuttling off into the shadows.
The memory stirs sadness. It scatters around me like dust.
A vacation is a poor substitute for love.
If you will only pause, as you hurry through your days, take a minute to look at passersby, beyond cursory skin-deep analysis, all the way into their eyes, what beauty you might find woven from the life threads there.
Who do they become when night descends, a cool puff of smoke, and vampires come out to party?
White nationalism? Definitely not her cup of hate. But it is yours.
From Daddy to Dad in thirty seconds. We were strangers after all.
I feel dead inside anyway. Cara made me feel alive. Maybe that’s why I can’t let her go. I don’t want to feel dead anymore. What I think is, I need a way to feel alive that doesn’t require someone else to make it happen.
They say, when facing the onslaught of tooth and claw, a creature’s heart can simply quit.
Pretty isn’t good enough.
It pays to be the better predator.
How can I respect a house where women are no more than servants? How can I respect rules laid down by a phantom father? How can I respect a man who...
Violence is never right. But a man has a duty to keep his wife in check.