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Wrong Stories

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The smell of oranges and roses never ceases to set me back into those years in which I thought I knew happiness. The two together are strange: their scents mingle and twist and frolic in a dance of the beautiful and the divine that I cannot find anywhere...

I have a weakness for pretty girls named Isabel. Not Isabelle, with two l’s slashing through words like paper cuts, nor Isabella, who’s softer sound makes me think of meek and doe-eyed children. Isadora is acceptable, but not preferable. Isabel is the per...

She makes me so frustrated it’s almost inhuman. I hate that she smells like strawberries and winter and her complexion is the color of rosebuds in springtime. I hate that she looks just as beautiful in my NFL t-shirt as she does in makeup and a Prada dres...

Words Of Wisdom

This is a song I wrote to a friend, some people may be offended that's why it's 18+

There were days When I had no other ways to get out This pain I only knew how to cause more Damage to myself and before you know it I had the knife and my skin was splitI tried hard to hide but couldn’t defend my guard I was weak Thus the tears that strol...