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I don't know how I know that, but I do. I can feel the beat of that truth inside me. Taste it bitter on my tongue. Sometimes, like now, I didn't think I want to know who I really am.

Elizabeth Scott

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Elizabeth Scott
Truth
Feel
Bitter
Sometimes
Beat
Feels
Tongue
Really
Beats
Think
Taste
Thinking
Inside
Like
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I love books. I like that the moment you open one and sink into it you can escape from the world, into a story that's way more interesting that yours will ever be.
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I wants us to be real. I want to be just you and me. - Ryan
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it´s just...today has really sucked, and when you´re around stuff doesn´t seem so crappy - Will
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Sometimes being me is very confusing.
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Whatever happened to me just now has gotten to me, broken past the fragile shell I've built. More than my memory is gone. My soul has wings that beat to a heart I don't understand and I see things, feel things that I know aren't from here, but that are so real.
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But I know a lie when I hear one.
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I didn't feel anything watching him go. I didn't even wish I did.
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Okay, I guess you can come in. Um, Hannah, you have to, you know, open the front door so I can actually come in. I thought you were going to - you're standing under my window. Aren't you supposed to climb up here or something? My ladder's at home. Also, you call throwing rocks at your window clichéd?
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Hope was supposed to be a good thing, but it was starting to feel like every other four-letter word you're not supposed to say.
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It's bullshit. It's so easy to label people, to look at a list of symptoms and say, This is who you are. This is what you are.
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It could be enough, maybe, or at least a start, but the problem is that at night I tumble into dreams that aren't dreams at all. I tumble into memories and wake up aching for a dying world and a quiet, cold life that offered me nothing but sitting in a still room.
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And you… do you know what you are?” “Stupid?” “Beautiful,” he says, his face turning red.
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The sun will rise tomorrow. It always does, and all the wishing in the world for the way things were, or for what they could have been, won't change that. It won't change how things are.
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My name is Danielle. I'm eighteen. I've been stealing things for as long as I can remember
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I’m broken, I have cut myself wide open. I can see my heart and it is not what I believed it was, it is not good and kind and all the things I have always thought I am.
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Anger can try to break your heart, but sorrow is what will. What can. What does.
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