The night I lost a fight I wasn't willing to start. Goodbye <3

Inconsistently consistent

Teach me how to lie to myself so that I can be my own crutch. You are the perfect reverberance of the perfect man, but I'm inconsistently consistent. I'm sorry your princess wears a paper bag.

Time to change

Maybe it's time. I think it's time. Maybe it's time to change.

Time to let myself out of this shell and back to who I used to be before all the chaos. Before him, and him... Before that girl... Maybe it's time to change.

Maybe it's time. I think it's time. Maybe it's time to change.

Success doesn't have to be frightening if you're confident and open to change.

Maybe it's time. I think it's time. Maybe it's time to change.

For the better.

"we are so accustomed to disguising ourselves to others that we become disguised to ourselves"

Do not wear a mask if it leaves you uncomfortable and unsure of your true face.

Will the nightmare of you go away? I refuse to stay dormant and cry as I awake to a man that loves me more than you are capable of loving anyone or anything. Keep your demons away from me. I am free from you.

I am genuine. I am a facade.

Either that or the immanentity of a future more wise young woman in a shell that I cannot be contained within..

Nothing but a poets heart she once wrote. Nothing but a softly wilted peddle on the flower of life.

Maybe one day I'll allow myself to envelope the shine that falls upon my chest, the impotent soul that once reside there. I have placed my roots in soil that has once poisoned me, caused me to nearly die, I lay victim to bend and break with the stability it failed to provide.

I had begun to grow tired of his imperious demands, the redundant, callus bereavement.

Not once was I able to choose my direction of growth, nor the feild I was fertilized. In a sense I have grown in the direction that all beautiful flowers have been asked, towards the light. Towards the nurturing, warmth. The light that causes me to dehydrate, wilt and decay...

We will never run out of metaphors my gaudy peers.

But forget all that I have said, as to you, it is nothing but an idiom.

We are not given the time to let anyone in fully. I'd hate to say this.. but perhaps that is what makes life so beautiful. The mysterious feeling of projecting what others see. And knowing the difference. I am genuine. I am a facade. As are you.