He loved her for being so beautiful, and he hated her for it. He loved how she put shiny stuff on her lips for him, and he also reviled her for it. He wanted her to walk home alone, and he wanted to run after her and grab her up before she could take another step.
She went around with a broken heart, and she wasn't sure who'd broken it. She thought it was herself, mostly.
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She went around with a broken heart, and she wasn't sure who'd broken it. She thought it was herself, mostly.
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Sex could be a blissful communion,. But it could also be a weapon, and its absence, sometimes, was required for the establishment of peace.
Let me love you, he saidI want to mould that broken heart,To feel the pain the others before I have caused,Walk down the darkness that you walked through,Understand how something so broken can be so beautiful,I need to understand how you manifested.
She wasn__ his kind of woman, and she didn__ want to fall in love with a man who would break her heart like a Dorito.
A broken heart in real life isn't half as dreadful as it is in books. It's a good deal like a bad tooth, though you won't think THAT a very romantic simile. It takes spells of aching and gives you a sleepless night now and then, but between times it lets you enjoy life and dreams and echoes and peanut candy as if there were nothing the matter with it.
You can't sweep something broken into a bag and call it whole. It takes repair.