“You feel like you win when you play trivia with my brain and charades with my heart.”

You’re the baggage I wish I could claim.

We are the novel I keep reading.

The girl with the heart of gold, bled for you in ink.

And I don’t want to fall, unless its you I’m falling into.

The girl with the heart of gold, bled for you in ink.

She’s not your unicorn. She’s her own mother fucking dragon.

We are no different – we go back to anyone just to have something to do.

I heard you went to outer space, and while you dreamt – the planets and galaxies whispered my name.

She’s not your unicorn. She’s her own mother fucking dragon.

You and I flirt in ways they don’t know exist.

You look at me like supper, and I just want to be your last one this time.

You’re living the skyscraper life up high just so your ego can soar high.

You come back to ask me if I’m happy, and it shows me its you who isn’t.

We don’t belong to anyone. Half the time we don’t even belong to ourselves.

He says he wants to take me to Paris – but I see Amsterdam in his eyes.

Boys with skeletons in their closets – they make skeletons out of girls.

Whatever you do, you should do it with feeling.

You just go with the flow because life is just all about how you feel.

Never be ashamed of expressing how you feel; being ashamed of emotional pain is as outlandish as being ashamed of shoulder pain. Your emotions are your truth; they are internal experiences that belong to you and no one has the right to criticize them.

Your memories make me feel less alone. 

I feel like I was writing as I was learning to talk. Writing was always a go-to form of communication. And I knew I could sing from being in tune with the radio.

I always felt like there was a certain standard of music that I had to do from the beginning, even when I didn’t have the recognition that I have now.

Do not feel lonely on the road of righteousness Because of the fewness of the walkers on it.

Don’t feel stupid if you don’t like what everyone else pretends to love.