Don't you call her baby. We're not talking lately. Don't you call her what you used to call me... A story in which a girl who writes songs falls in love with the boy who sings them. "Color...What a deep and mysterious language, the language of dreams." - Paul Gauguin. DO NOT PRINT MY BOOKS! *TW: story contains mature topics such as mental abuse, PTSD, minor drug usage, and minor sexual content.*

"Don't sit next to me." "Why not?" "I'm ugly." "Nice to meet you ugly, I'm blind."

My name's Marcel. Nerd. Poet. Teenage Loser. You think you know the real me, but you don't. I wish you could see the true me, but no one has cared enough to. Until she came. All rights go to _smilelikeniall (myself). Everything is written by me. No copyright intended. Please do not claim my words and/ or ideas as yours. Do not repost my words without giving me credit. Thank you.

"You know what you remind me of?" "What?" "Cotton Candy. Sweet but the more you have the sicker you feel" "I don't know whether to be offended or not"

Motel 6- where you may find cockroaches in the showers, questionable food in the vending machine, and maybe, possibly, some love along the way. © Copyright 2017. All rights reserved. This material may not be reproduced, displayed, modified or distributed without the express prior written permission of the copyright holder. For permission, contact _HakunaMatata_ on Wattpad.com.