All I ever wanted was someone to write for
Someone to write about
Someone who appreciates what I do
Someone who cherishes it
Someone who has proof of my love for them in the pages that they hold in their hands
Someone who doesn’t want me to break the habit
Someone who would bleed for me if I ever ran out of ink
But all I have is myself
Alone in a forest of scarred trees
Lost in the echo of my own voice
LITTLE TALKS 
Your words always seem to capture a lot of what I feel, as well as much of what I have felt. It’s almost like reading my own thoughts out aloud.