"Honey," she replies stroking my cheek. I lean into her touch and close my eyes. She pulls my chin so my eyes level with hers and says, "When your dick is smaller than the size of a pinky finger on a five year old, you no longer call it a dick. It's just a floating piece of dust near your buttcrack." I wrote this when I was a lot younger ...so read at your own risk !

Just trust in yourself, you'll go far.

She was an astrologist. Making the stars. The sky. The way things moved. She knew it like the back of her head. Yet at the same time not. Things changed constantly. Disrupting the balance and everything in it. Like a friend to a stranger. She still didn't know the woman she lied next to bed every night. But non the less she loved her. She was a thinker. Deep and well thought. Though life was cruel. She managed. But. Was it possible to become a stranger to yourself.

( Cover made by: @_GothicGirl ) Short Story #160 (07/25/2014) Romance #557 (07/27/2014) The piano was her only voice while he was an actor pretending to be himself. They noticed that both of them had a star birth mark, and a legend said they should therefore never touch each other. They tried to keep their distance and made an unbreakable bond that changed them. But one day, in the wake of a storm, they learn first-hand the truth about the legend. Will their relationship last?