our wounds are often the openings into the best and most beautiful part of us. © sage; two-thousand-and-fourteen.

❝ we fall apart as it gets dark, i'm in your arms in central park. there's nothing you could do or say, i can't escape the way i love you. ❞

"It's 4:39 when we first met, do you remember?"

"you're a satanist? do you really not have any self-respect?" "really? you want to talk about morals?" or in which a satanist falls for a prostitute