i have yet to discover the persona in which i choose to portray. each and every day i wake up and decide on which me i'll be.
One day you fall for this boy. And he touches you with his fingers. And he burns holes in your skin with his mouth. And it hurts when you look at him. And it hurts when you don’t. And it feels like someone’s cut you open with a jagged piece of glass. Maureen Medved, The Tracey Fragments (via silvike)