It's a finger snapping kind of day.
Defend myself? I cannot defend the verbal repressions of a boy. A curmudgeonly, cantankerous, ill-tempered, counterfeit boy.
Writers do not have the privilege of sleep. There is always a story coming alive in their heads, constantly composing. Whether they choose it or not.
I want your most vital organ. I want it to be mine.
I can cast a spell on your behalf regarding a relationship, your financial situation, future events, or whatever is important to you. I have the power and I use the power. I can change the course of y...
When we are in love, we are convinced nobody else will do. But as time goes, others do do, and often do do, much much better.
Maybe she had it wrong all this time and her empty heart could never be filled by his ingenious broken spirit. Maybe this yearning had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with her.
She stabbed him with her wicked pretty knife, disrupted his simple life.She's a player, a heartbreaker,and now she breaks alone.
Her heart had grown so familiar to the pain of life without him, that to respond now seemed too large a pleasure she could not endure. If pain was love, then she loved fiercely. Yet knew she could not...
He cared less, so they cared more. He said it was beautiful. I knew he was broken.This was his game.
He offered her power, money, status...a giant prison, all in exchange for only...her soul.
He had let me know time after time that he was a thinking man, a man of intellect and wit. Yet one unintended hungry look into my eyes and he betrayed each of his words he had carefully spoken to me....
Now he was nothing to her, just a lesson in time, a wicked boy-man, incapable of wealth or prestige.
Color me....BRILLIANT.
But every spiteful word she ever wrote him was effortless love clenched in her fists. Her heart screaming for stability in this fiery game of desire.
She wanted to write to him. Tell him she was glad he was back, that he was alive, that he was home and safe. But words to him no longer fit right in her her mouth.Words which belonged in his ownership...
She had missed him so long now, that the feeling had become a part of her. As each day passed, the missing distanced itself from her heart. One day she woke, and realized the missing was there but the...
My lips are fierce with passion. My heart spins fiery beats. A rhythm lives within my fingers and dances in my feet.
You cannot mistake thisYou cannot reinvent this moment You cannot call this loveIt is so much more
The world I held so closely, she played me like a game,I released and left her laughing to stand on my own two feet.