Mirrors are used in magic to distort what we see. They are the love child of illusion, lies, tragedy.
DANIELLE MONTGOMERYI wish I was on a jet plane, with my passport in my pocket and adventure in my veins.
More Danielle Montgomery Quotes
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Drive me to a ditch and I’ll dig the grave myself through conversation.
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Like water lies spill from my lips. Droplets of poison ready to kill.
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I built these walls around me to shelter you from my hurricane mind. Now I must weather the storm alone.
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My mind is loud but endless evanescent thoughts stay trapped in silence.
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The body is but a vessel to carry the soul. A container ship to protect it as it passes through this world.
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I’m not asking that you take the bullet for me. I wish you’d shoot first.
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All smoke and mirrors, nothing concrete or real -Social Media
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Bake at any time. Lick the chocolate from the bowl. Lessons from my Nan.
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Double chin, Fat Thighs. Will you think about these things before your last breath?
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Old habits die hard, so fill up my cup and let’s raise hell in heaven.
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Kiss my wine-drenched mouth and drown in drunk temptations offered by the night.
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Like a wild cat in the Serengeti, I land on my feet and transcend reality.
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I wish I was on a jet plane, with my passport in my pocket and adventure in my veins.
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Your flesh is like the ocean. Let it wave, rise, ripple, and soar in all its glorious commotion.
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Every freckle, mole, dimple, and scar, shine bright in my body’s constellation of stars.
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An old song; a whiff of perfume; nostalgia let’s me time travel back to you.
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Twenty-six letters, infinite stories to tell, nothing comes to mind.
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I wish the voices would pour from every orifice. Bleed from my bones and drain me of this illness.
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She loathes her body but covers it in sequins. Attempts at self-love.
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This little black dress doesn’t hide imperfections. It shows off my soul.
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Always hated maths but now I can’t stop counting self-worth in numbers.
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Talk dirty to me like I’m a nun on her knees screaming hail Mary.
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Forever dreaming of a faraway place, where the sun melts my sorrows and blows kisses on my face.
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If your thighs touch, don’t be scared. They are just kissing; it’s a love affair.
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I grab my skin, soft like play dough, and wish my nails could cut like scissors.
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The photo of me they choose to print when I die -Thoughts at 4 a.m
DANIELLE MONTGOMERY