A love that bled.

She was nothing more than an eighteen year old with a tattered heart; a corrupted brain, and thoughts so impure it would make men in jail cringe—it wasn’t her fault—she was a girl whom fell in love with a pure man.

He was nothing more than a nineteen year old with a mom who was there for him with whatever decision he made; a boy whom didn’t have thoughts or death, nor did he have dreams of his childhood—and if he did, they were good—he was a boy whom fell in love with an insane girl.

Their love was hard; their love was a battle – their love was not easy—their love was a love that bled.