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How could I share the way my heart was breaking when my confessor didn’t believe

Ellen Hopkins

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Ellen Hopkins
Age: 69
Born: 1955
Born: March 26
Novelist
Writer
Long Beach
California
Ellen Louise Hopkins
Heart
Believe
Way
Confessor
Breaking
Share
Didn

More quotes by Ellen Hopkins

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Red and raw like my heart, pried from your's, the two beating, no longer together, but a thousand miles between them when only yesterday they thumped in unison.
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I know he wants to get serious. He's definitely not a player, not a poser, not a loser, not a user.
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Why doesn't love come with an owner's manual?
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Afraid to Die Loveless Because I think if you die without knowing love in this life, that's how you'll spend eternity. Alone. Frozen.
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I feel like a goddess, jailed in her Olympus. Little wonder how the gods toyed with humans. Toyed with women, to watch them squirm, pollinate the seeds of despair toyed with men, to satiate their Seven Deadly Sins.
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But then, my entire life is bullshit. The best things in it have vanished, ghosts. Ghosts I'll admit I created.
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One kiss, I was totally hooked.
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Before you, I believed love was making love. Waiting only makes me love you more.
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How can I explain purposely setting foot on a path so blatantly treacherous? Was the fun in the fall?
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empty and closed, hovering in some frozen netherworld neither sun nor rain could thaw.
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And almost instantly, Daddy made everything seem just fine. Even when it wasn't.
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I haven't cried since Mom died. I mean, after something like that, what's left to cry about, right? But I let myself cry now. Loss is loss. Doesn't take death to create it. (266)
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Even without them touching me, I feel dirty about what I do. Alex does even filthier things but says it all washes off with soap. I don’t believe that. I think it all leaves stains. Indelible stains.
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It's just so hard to feel good, you know? I do know. And more than that, it's just so incredibly hard to feel. (54)
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I write poetry anyway and have for years and years. For me, putting fiction and poetry together is like the best of both worlds.
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I'm a total wreck. Afraid to let anyone near. Afraid they'll see the real me.
Ellen Hopkins
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Grown up? Me? I suppose I have. Killing things, and almost killing myself, must have changed me some, after all.
Ellen Hopkins
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I hate this feeling. Like I'm here, but I'm not. Like someone cares. But they don't. Like I belong somewhere else, anywhere but here, and escape lies just past that snowy window, cool and crisp as the February air.
Ellen Hopkins
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I nod, because I do understand. I'm just not sure how to go about divorcing myself from the evil I've already accepted.
Ellen Hopkins
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Religion is for followers... Followers and puppets.
Ellen Hopkins