Some Tears Have To Be Cried No

... Suicide Gets In The Air Sometimes. Like A Cold Germ.

The Road To Hell Is Paved With Adverbs.

Your Hair Is Winter Fire January Embers My Heart Burns There, Too.

He Remembered Waking Up Once, Listening To The Wind, Thinking Of All The Dark And Rushing Cold Outside And All The Warmth Of This Bed, Filled With Their Peaceful Heat Under Two Quilts, And Wishing It Could Be Like This Forever.

They Say That Loving Eyes Can Never See, But That's A Fool's Axiom. Sometimes, They See Too Much