The conversation between your fingers and someone else’s skin. This is the most important discussion you can ever have.
T.L. MARTINFunny how being fucked isn’t nearly as pleasing as I remember.
More T.L. Martin Quotes
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Heartache is my constant companion, and we’re perfect for one another. Two co-dependent peas in a pod. My past and my future.
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Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.
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I suppose it was easier to pretend I didn’t exist than it was to exorcise my demons.
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I don’t deal with them. And if I don’t deal with them, I have no reason to learn their names.
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Darkness watches me from every angle. My only friend. From its own place within the silence, it speaks to me in a strange way.
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He doesn’t look at me like he’s owed anything. He looks at me like I’ve already given him everything.
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The darkness that surrounds us cannot hurt us. It is the darkness in your own heart you should fear.
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Art is a private piece of me.
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Madness, as you know, is like gravity. All it takes is a little push.
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Don’t play with the Devil, he always cheats.
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Do not feel lonely, the entire universe is inside you.
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Maybe she’d try to understand that the dark images muddled my brain until it hurt, until I had no choice but to let them out.
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She wore her scars as her best attire. A stunning dress made of hellfire.
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I never claimed to be a predator, but right now she’s certainly the prey.
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There’s a difference between loving someone as they are whole, and wanting to see all of their pieces. I’ve understood this for a while now, and I don’t fault anyone for it.
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He’s just as fucked up as the rest of us. Some of us just wear our creep on our sleeves.
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Do not judge my story by the chapter you walked in on.
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I quickly learned I needed someone who specifically enjoyed, or at the very least could take it, when I hit that point of blinding release. Every time, I lost all sense of the control I work so hard at maintaining.
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But I was still weird enough that people otherwise left me alone.
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Knowing your own darkness is the best method for dealing with the darkness of other people.
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The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep.
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This is good for you. Death is a thing of beauty, and it needs to be executed in such a way that does it justice.
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It’s time to see what happens when I fly.
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I part my lips, but no words come out. I want to cry. Want to beg. Want to scream. But mostly, I want to hold him until I know he’s going to be okay. Then I want him to hold me until I’m okay, too.
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My eyes shut as the fire in my lungs reaches my throat.
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You are my blue crayon, the one I never have enough of, the one I use to color my sky.
T.L. MARTIN