I miss the feeling of you breaking my heart and calling it “art”. The way its fragments splintered tore me apart and the way you marveled...

Now, keep in mind, these are in no particular order. That would be too difficult to determine. It was hard enough to narrow down the top...

It’s a foggy morning inside my head. Dew settles at the base of my skull a damp film across my dull thoughts, if I dare think any to...