Whenever Something Great Happens, You’re Always Kind

Maybe Other Writers Have Perfect First Drafts, But I Am Not One Of Them. I Always Try To Get The Book As Tight As I Can, But You Reach A Point As The Author Where You Have Lost All Perspective.

Their Words, Like The Music, Had The Potential To Be Endless.

Like A Word On A Page That You’ve Printed And Read A Million Times, That Suddenly Looks Strange Or Wrong, Foreign. And You Feel Scared For A Second, Like You’ve Lost Something, Even If You’re Not Sure What It Is.

He Doesn’t Love Me. He Might Still Love Me As I Was At Fifteen, When I Didn’t Know Any Better. When I Trusted Everyone. I’m Not That Person Any More. He’s Just A Boy. He Was The First To Really Hurt Me, But He’s Just A Boy. There Were A Lot Of Them.

As If It Didnt Matter What Was On, But Instead How Hard I Was Listening.