I'll make this short and simple, I'm nothing. I have no talent of any sort; but I still spew my words across the "pages" in a pathetic attempt to create something beautiful. I can't say I particularly enjoy living, but to actively take my life is something I'm avoiding. I have one reason to keep breathing, but I'm starting to think I'm what's causing his suffering. Anyway, read my shit, or don't. I don't care anymore.
I'll always love you Ryan, even when you grow sick of me.
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pixelsintheair
Jan 20, 2016 10:50PM
I'm not the best author, nor do I try to be. But I love it, so..yeah. I'll post randomly and inconsistentlyView all Conversations
Stories by Sick of me yet?
Stories for the Book I'll Never Wr...
Consider it my bitch book, a place to write down what's going on upstairs.
The Unknown.
It's a bunch of shitty poems by a shitty writer who hates herself and wants to die. Enjoy.
The Dictionary of Mykala Jane
Because I'm always told I'm reparative, I decided to make a list of words, names, and phrases I use on a dail...