• it was derived from somewhere deep inside of her. she knew what it was all about, yet she couldn’t allow her mind to let in all the different aspects that she now had to juggle with. she was empty. she was lost.

  • her body felt empty. she knew she was dead inside. nothing would bloom, nothing could come of the love she felt for her husband.

  • i spill my heart everywhere. does it ever stop?

  • they shared the sweet cake that he’d brought her. even though he wasn’t really into sweets, he did it for her… chewing bite after bite he feel deeper and deeper in love with her. with them. as the unfamiliar sugar rush took hold of his body, he couldn’t figure out how exactly they got there. but then again, did he care?

  • because it’s not just what you are, but what you do. they strip you naked of all your armors and make you play it out with no one to support you but your own false dreams and hopes of making it in this world of fragile performances.

  • her shoulders were bare and her head empty. ‘why did i even go there in the first place?’ she couldn’t stop pondering. worrying. ‘is it me or is it just this place that’s without a soul?’

  • because you’re worth it? bullshit. there might be truth in it, there might not – no matter what, it’s a label that rejects understanding, and because of that it’s got no room in a perfect world. my perfect world?