I live this demented life where black clouds sit comfy above my head, it's so eternal. It's home. — Needa Muy Black clouds Copy Share Image
I am always trying to stick my emotions into people and things with no emotion. — Needa Muy Emotion Copy Share Image
Suddenly I no longer knew the difference between hot and cold, ache or numbness, all or nothingness. — Needa Muy Hot and cold Copy Share Image
I like words more than I like people. That's my fucking problem. — Needa Muy Awkward Copy Share Image
Forever prepared to bleed what resembles my soul, bloody black ink. — Needa Muy Awkward Copy Share Image
I'm not a morning person. Not a night person. Not a person.. maybe. — Needa Muy Awkward Copy Share Image
You're saying it wasn't your insecurities but in actuality, that's what made you leave. Now although the relationship is dead, I can't… — Needa Muy Empty Copy Share Image
Our hearts brag about the silliest kind of sadness in which we often find vulnerability to be one of our greatest emotion… — Needa Muy Pity Copy Share Image
I'm living in a world where the sky is foreign and everything seems so strange. I need two things in all the… — Needa Muy Change Copy Share Image
But who the fuck do we really put the blame on? The demons that are inside of her, or the ones who… — Needa Muy Empty Copy Share Image
I'm under my own construction, mental lockdown and there is no way to escape it. Watching out for self-destruction because the most… — Needa Muy Empty Copy Share Image
There's this indescribable ache that swarms beneath my skin on random days and I am always saying 'fuck off' but it never… — Needa Muy Ache Copy Share Image
I'm exhausted from the nonexistent bullshit my mind makes up. To suffer from imagination rather than from reality has got to be… — Needa Muy Empty Copy Share Image
There is nothing inspiring about this at all. Truthfully, not everything sad is art and sometimes sad shit is really all that… — Needa Muy Art Copy Share Image
Every emotion started to feel the same. Everything started to be the same. Whenever I felt anything.. I was always either too… — Needa Muy Feel Copy Share Image
She was the black rose. She was the lightning storm. She was one who couldn't grow. She was the one with thorns.… — Needa Muy Drowned Copy Share Image
Once I enter the realm of depression or when I am at my happiest, those are the moments of realization when I… — Needa Muy Addict Copy Share Image
I cannot pretend to drown myself in nothingness when in reality I feel every single fucking thing in my soul. Sure I… — Needa Muy Empty Copy Share Image
It is the most annoyingly painful feeling in the world when there is someone willing to write until their fingers have ached… — Needa Muy Poetry Copy Share Image
There are some dried flowers found in between the pages of your books.. you've done a lot of saving, haven't you? — Needa Muy Awkward Copy Share Image
My weaknesses are also my strengths. Youd find it funny how I'm complacent with pain. The type who'd fall down seven times,… — Needa Muy Empty Copy Share Image
An infected writer. Sick of the poetry poison injected inside of her. — Needa Muy Awkward Copy Share Image
Getting kissed by a needle and bleeding every time. The art of writing. — Needa Muy Art Copy Share Image
He traded in what he thought he had no control over for someone who he knew how to manipulate. — Needa Muy Breakup Copy Share Image
I saw the poet in you when it was obvious that your type of women were all broken and were those who… — Needa Muy Madness Copy Share Image
That is the saddest thing about being a writer. We die in ways you cannot fathom just to keep someone alive in… — Needa Muy Hate Copy Share Image
I'm okay with being alone in crowded places. People just feel more awkward about me more than I feel about myself. I… — Needa Muy Awkward Copy Share Image
I will be moving to London to reinvent my whole identity the way Alice (Jane Jones) did in the movie, Closer. — Needa Muy Alice Copy Share Image
I spent years of being a ghost / Unsure of where home is anymore / I tell them I feel nothing /… — Needa Muy Awkward Copy Share Image
Back pushed against the wall. Hearts shattered like broken glass. The rain's dropping harder than ever like the mood(s) of Sylvia Plath. — Needa Muy Bleed Copy Share Image
The world goes to sleep when it's a cold winter. All except those writers in which it naturally rains inside of them… — Needa Muy Awkward Copy Share Image
