I kept all the butterflies in my stomach in a jar hidden somewhere in my closet. I would need them at nights when I'm tangled up in your sheets and I need to feel something.

If life were a game of unrequited loneliness, I'd be winning out of despair.

Lately, sunsets have been looking at me with sad eyes; they seem to tell me I've seen enough of them in a lifetime.

I wish I were the kind of person that people would remember after meeting for the first time. But no, I am often easily dismissed. If people were places I am a sidewalk you'll never pass by; the alleys are too dark, the steps are too narrow, and it is not worth your time.

I’m a mess of contradictions and you’re the unlucky one who is caught up in the crossfire.

Dear Stranger, I’m going to tell you now that if you are here to stay, I will ask for too much.