W. Winters

All of her. Every piece of her is mine and she knows it.

Mine.

The loss is something we have to go through together and maybe we’ll have moments where we feel alone, because we were wishing those moments were with the little life we never got to hold

He is my home. He is my person. Beside him is where I belong, and I’ll do whatever it takes to stay there. Every sacrifice it demands, I’ll make.

My family may have sheltered her.

I killed for her.

My name. She’s gasping my name. She’ll scream it too.

Hearing that hauntingly sweet voice say my name as if it’s the only word meant to fall from her lips is everything I’ve ever wanted. Fucking music to my ears.

He might have been her first, but I’ll ruin her.

I’ll make her mine and make her forget about any other man who’s touched her.

grief doesn’t know time. It comes and goes as it pleases, then small things taunt it back into your life. The memories haunt you forever and carry the grief with them.

He left me breathless and wanting, and that’s a hard temptation to run away from.

Obsession may be the wrong word. I think possessive is better. She’s mine. My reason to move on from what happened before. My desire for more. My only way to cope.