It's just hard to travel in the shadow of regret. In fact, it's so hard that I actually haven't left yet.

Emptiness has its solace in that there's nothing left to take.

I know men are delicate origami creatures who need women to unfold them, hold them when they cry. But I am tired of being your savior and I am tired of telling you why.

I know my mind is made of matter but I need to know exactly what is the matter at it's core? Because my heart is just a muscle and simply put, it's sore.