If I Bet On Humanity,

Death Meant Little To Me. It Was The Last Joke In A Series Of Bad Jokes.

Beauty Is Nothing, Beauty Won’t Stay. You Don’t Know How Lucky You Are To Be Ugly, Because If People Like You, You Know It’s For Something Else.

I Kept Telling Myself That All The Women In The World Weren´t Whores, Just Mine.

What's Wrong With Assholes, Baby?

The Blankets Had Fallen Off And I Stared Down At Her White Back, The Shoulder Blades Sticking Out As If They Wanted To Grow Into Wings, Poke Through That Skin. Little Blades. She Was Helpless.