“Twinkle in her eyes and a thousand laughter lines; signs of life done right.”

Pink dress, chestnut curls. A picture of innocence before life stole her.

If your thighs touch, don’t be scared. They are just kissing; it’s a love affair.

A star that shines the brightest is the one that had to explode the hardest. My love, you are a supernova.

Sand between her toes she dances with earth without a care in the world.

I wish I was on a jet plane, with my passport in my pocket and adventure in my veins.

Her blue eyes sparkle a little less than before. Adult life done right.

Even in darkness, your light burns with the cosmic energy of a thousand falling stars.

Your flesh is like the ocean. Let it wave, rise, ripple, and soar in all its glorious commotion.

I’m not asking that you take the bullet for me. I wish you’d shoot first.

Forever dreaming of a faraway place, where the sun melts my sorrows and blows kisses on my face.

Intrusive thoughts burn holes in my brain. I guess that’s why I’m so empty.

This little black dress doesn’t hide imperfections. It shows off my soul.

Old habits die hard, so fill up my cup and let’s raise hell in heaven.

All smoke and mirrors, nothing concrete or real -Social Media

Consumed by darkness but drenched in warm morning sun. Life’s oxymoron.

Like water lies spill from my lips. Droplets of poison ready to kill.

I don’t want to just be a teenage star. I want to be known by parents, and I want them to go, ‘Oh I love that song; he’s really good for his age. My daughter loves him, but I love him, too.’

Sometimes I feel like a complete kid when I’m running around with my friends being stupid for a week, and then sometimes I just want to sit in my house and sip tea and watch old movies like I’m 60.

Stay strong! Your test will become your test-imony, your mess will become your mess-age.

I’m going to have wrinkles really soon.

From 15 to 18, everybody is a different person. Every six months, I have a whole new outlook on life.

A youth of frolic, an old age of cards.

Being 15, I feel like people want me to go down the Justin Bieber, Cody Simpson sort of genre.

Always remember this: If you don’t attend the funerals of your friends, they will certainly not attend yours.