I’ve told too many lies. I hold too many secrets. Who can I really trust? Who can trust me when I don’t even trust myself?
There are all kinds of ways for a relationship to be tested, even broken, some, irrevocably; it’s the endings we’re unprepared for.
Here’s what I know: death abducts the dying, but grief steals from those left behind.
You can’t really hear heartbreak. It is remarkably silent but excruciating all the same.
My favorite color is black because I love the night sky, black licorice, and I feel sorry for the color black because no one ever chooses it as their favorite.