Beautiful nightmares. 

We could’ve had love they wrote novels about. The kind that burned everything in it wake; an all-consuming, terrifying yet beautiful love. 

It’s a shame that all we are is a memory. 


She is brave. The bravest I know. Because she feels everything so deeply that it soaks into her skin and runs through her veins. 

Love consumes her and hurt becomes her. 

Tell me, how many have that kind of courage..