She wishes that she was a white crayon, because then, no one would use her.



~*~



She sat there wasting away wishing someone would come and save her from this horrid place that God loves.



~*~



Writing is her escape, and music is her freedom from this living hell.



~*~



There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds. ~ Laurell K. Hamilton