You are a monster, deathly, solipsistic to the bone and you’re blasphemous because all you want is You

I fold my hands under my head and tell the books all about you. They listen, Beck. I know it sounds crazy, but they do.

There is nothing more terrifying than realizing that the one who knows you best loves you least, pities you even.

Los Angeles is full of places to hide a body, but when the person inside the body doesn’t love you, it’s not an easy thing, turning that breathing person into a dead one.