Two hearts tied together by hope and tragedy. My childhood and innocence were stolen when I was kidnapped at five years old and held captive for eleven years. Now, at eighteen years old, I don't know what love, happiness, or hope feels like anymore. I'm numb and lost, clinging to a childhood
The people we love are thieves. They steal our hearts. They steal our breath. They steal our sanity. And we let them. Over and over and over again. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * They say you never forget your first time. Mine was with a homeless musician who effed my brains out under a
