It’s such a tiny, single, and light word.
Two things prevent us from happiness; living in the past and observing others.
Virgin shaming and slut shaming piss me off in equal amounts. There’s nothing magical or special about being a virgin, and same goes with having sex. You know what’s magical? Shutting the fuck up about people’s personal choices.
Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires.
Don’t ever put your happiness in someone else’s hands. They’ll drop it. They’ll drop it every time.
But I don’t want comfort. I want poetry. I want danger. I want freedom. I want goodness. I want sin.
Sometimes it’s not the people who change, it’s the mask that falls off.