yellow socks.

I can feel my heartbeat through my entire body, if I lay really still and think of you.

Love is such a vastly used, abused, adored, absurd word, That can mean as little or as much as you want, which is the most dangerous thing about it. It breaks hearts, it mends them. It snaps them and bends them. But who are you to reach into my chest and pull it out? It belongs to me! So why do you have it? And why can't I get it back?