She was beautiful, but not like those girls in the magazines. She was beautiful for the way she thought. She was beautiful for that sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loved. She was beautiful for her ability to make other people smile
She was never crazy. She just didn't let her heart settle in a cage. She was born wild, and sometimes we need people like her; for it's the horrors in her heart which cause the flames in ours. And she was willing to burn for everything she ever loved.
love is choosing to serve someone in spite of their filthy heart. love is patient and kind, love is deliberate. love is hard. love is pain and sacrifice, it's seeing the darkness in another person and defying the impulse to jump ship.
"It was rather beautiful: the way he put her insecurities to sleep. The way he dove into her eyes and starved all the fears and tasted all the dreams she kept coiled beneath her bones." --Christopher Poindexter my favourite poet