"Give me ten days, and I can give you ten reasons not to die." Evan paused. "And if I can't change your mind by then, you can go jump off that cliff."

Xavier doesn't speak; he writes.

Hudson Ellis is good at his job. Somehow, he manages not to annoy people when he knocks at their doors and asks them to contribute to the charity he works for - instead, he gets them to sign up for sponsoring programmes and fish whatever spare change they have out of their pockets. Even the infamously tough residents of New York City are falling victim to Hudson's easy-going ways and wide smile; that is, until one woman renders him speechless with sarcastic refusals and slams her door in his face. Perhaps Hudson would be able to forget her - if it wasn't for the fact that she lives on the same floor of the next apartment over, and they both have floor-to-ceiling windows that allow for a rather generous view into each other's flats.

i burn under the moon.

Quinn scribbles tainted emotions across thin layers of white paper. But to who? To someone who blinks once, sees her, and blinks again-just to make her disappear. To someone who sees her as a symbol of the ocean. To someone who thinks the ocean is disgusting and hideous, filled with trash and pathetic wandering fishes. To someone who believes that Quinn needs to be a size zero to be labeled as 'beautiful.' If she isn't, why in the world will anyone care to love her? She's disgusting. Worthless. An enormous sailboat that makes the world sink. But how long will it take until she sinks herself?

dear stray eyelashes, ladybugs, dark tunnels, wishbones, dandelions, pennies, shooting stars, 11:11, and birthday candles, when will you do your job?

a collection of thoughts that always abruptly en

"they told us that we needed therapy, as if medication and tainted words could fix broken toys."

"I think you should -" "Correction: I am in my own body, with my own mind; you do not and cannot tell me what to do."