Coco J. Ginger Quotes
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He offered her power, money, status...a giant prison, all in exchange for only...her soul.
...I feel like a traitor, a phony, a fake. But I am a hypocrite with the best intentions, and I need kissing desperately.
I near felt bad he choose to be so evil to me. I am a forgiving woman, but my pen... oh my wicked wicked hormonal she-pen.
I wait, you play. You speak, I cave. I promise, you break. You game me, daily, you play me.
I miss your silent stature, your avoided days of disaster, your present state of distress.I’m cinnamon, cloves and fire, you are the rested cedarwood of desire.
If I wasn't so phenomenal. I would go back to you.
…..she needed him to know she did not care. She was spirited, tenacious, and full of contempt for him.
You cannot mistake thisYou cannot reinvent this moment You cannot call this loveIt is so much more
My lips are fierce with passion. My heart spins fiery beats. A rhythm lives within my fingers and dances in my feet.
Defend myself? I cannot defend the verbal repressions of a boy. A curmudgeonly, cantankerous, ill-tempered, counterfeit boy.
Elegant writers depict intricacy with simplicity.
Maybe she had it wrong all this time and her empty heart could never be filled by his ingenious broken spirit. Maybe this yearning had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with her.
A WISHSometimes I wish that he will liveand I will see him.But mostly I wish that he will die, and take my memories with him.
Now he was nothing to her, just a lesson in time, a wicked boy-man, incapable of wealth or prestige.
He brought out the worst in me, and was the best thing that ever happened to me.
He’s an indulgent sort of man……With a quick lip and a fierce tongue, the sort of tongue that draws you in with charm and words of praise, awkward silences and desperate worships.
Growth in love comes from a place of absence, where the imagination is left to it’s own devices and creates you to be much more then reality would ever allow.
When we are in love, we are convinced nobody else will do. But as time goes, others do do, and often do do, much much better.
You break me the hardest, make me the strongest, and keep me the softest.
I want your most vital organ. I want it to be mine.
He cared less, so they cared more. He said it was beautiful. I knew he was broken.This was his game.
I’m mistaken….for thinking you were someone with a heart worth breaking.
I HOLDIf I could have had him, I could have let himgo.But withoutthe having there was nothing—so to the nothingIhold.
Writers do not have the privilege of sleep. There is always a story coming alive in their heads, constantly composing. Whether they choose it or not.
It's all mine, it's all sacred.
You’re a mess, I confess, I despise you in the best kind of way.
I wore your promise on my finger for one yearI'll wear your name on my heart til I dieBecause you were my boy, you were my only boy forever.
Time to get a go on this drop-dead-gorgeous morning.
Bittersweet? No, just bitter, the taste of your tongue.Words you can’t have back, so they linger.
And I don’t even like you, but the pain of life without you is biting.
She stabbed him with her wicked pretty knife, disrupted his simple life.She's a player, a heartbreaker, and now she breaks alone.
The world I held so closely, she played me like a game, I released and left her laughing to stand on my own two feet.
It's a finger snapping kind of day.
But every spiteful word she ever wrote him was effortless love clenched in her fists. Her heart screaming for stability in this fiery game of desire.
When you miss someone....it’s weird…your body doesn’t function normally..as it should. Because I miss you, and my heart…it’s not steady…my soul it sings numb. Fingers are cold…like you…your soul.
You don’t deserve my image in your head. You don’t deserve my memories in your chest.
Tricks ripped and you tripped, tricked yourself by falling slowly.I’m the winner in this game, unable to stoop to your level of shame.Unwilling to reply to your words of ache.
I won’t let you have it. I won’t give you this moment. I won’t let you fill up this valuable organ...I own it. I won’t do it. I can’t think, I won’t think about it.