Tristan was the soundtrack of my summer. The beat I walked to. The melody I breathed in and out. The lyrics I lived by.

I don’t know. I guess I’d just like to see you live one day for yourself.

It’s like I became so obsessed with doing things right, I forgot to enjoy them.

I’m so tired of crying.I’m so tired of losing.I’m just so tired.

I can’t help to feel like they’re staring at me, too. Judging me. Deeming me not good enough. Not pretty enough. Not cool enough.And to be honest, sometimes I wonder if they’re right.

But there’s nothing.My life is one big meaningless cycle of nothingness.

I'm starting to think you like prisons, " "And that you have the worst taste in men.

He’s so close, yet so far away.” – Anna

Wisdom tells us that the best time for silence is when we are mad or upset.

This isn't your fight, Patch, " I said qu

Wherever you are, be loving, caring, kind, and above all, be happy.

I've faced the grief, I've faced the anger, and I'm ready to keep up the fight because America is worth fighting for.

Every photo you take communicates something about a moment in time - a brief slice of time of where you were, who you were with, and what you were doing.

I love visiting new places but am not overly fond of the travel to get to them.

Take these words home and think it through; Or the next rhyme I write might be about you.

Religious freedom is foundational for our country, and we must lead on religious freedom as an example in America.