Black Roses for her Black Heart.

Music is therapy

“Do you remember who you were at your happiest? Because I don’t” Undated Entry

Her OF is reading Keats at a table while I use a vibrator on her to see if she breaks or not.

The love she gives from her black heart is a lot for her I know. But it is something.

How do we stop life from using the fast forward button… I need it to slow down please.

🎵 The hills are alive with the sounds of murder.

When my heart broke… I literally searched for the pieces yet I only found the dark pieces and sewed them back together.

I’ve spent nights in solidarity, with paper and pen, candles and fire smoldering. It was so quiet I dropped a pin. I heard nothing.

That’s the wrong hole, Charlie Brown