A name and a face only distract from the images that written words create. 

The ambiguity of a silhouette is what makes it so enticing.

And I'll continue to be that voice in the dark.

who could flourish under florescence? the light makes my eyes burn and the waves of debasing makes my stomach turn. fingering my plug while i'm waiting for enlightenment, kicking to the curb, under some kind of confinement.

there is no time to waste asking, "why?"

I carry your heart.

"Bea says that the art of reading is slowly dying, that it's an intimate ritual, that a book is a mirror that offers only what we already carry inside us, that when we read, we do it with all our heart and mind, and great readers are becoming more scarce by the day."

Here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(I carry your heart,

I carry it in my heart).