If snowflakes are like people, how is anyone lucky enough to find anyone in this world.
Unfortunately, I am only myself.
If bitching were karate, my mother would be a black belt.
Maybe we were too broken to put back together. Maybe we’d been too broken to ever put together in the first place.
I plunged into him, kissing him like I was flame and he was wood, our tongues igniting.
He was glad she thought it was his ego that had kept his face on his phone and not his heart.