"Little did he know how observant I was, how life forced me to pay attention to all the little things. When people believed you couldn't see them, the parts of themselves they attempted to hide resurfaced."
Dying
Is an art, like everthing else
I do it exceptionally well.
I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.
Sylvia Plath