Bone Island - Blog Posts

To my beloved black sea,

It's why we read romance, to deprive our heart until it becomes utterly helpless, then fill it to the brink with warmth, only to freeze and shatter it all over again; to make sure it still works. I’m certain those who endure persistent heartbreak is either a lonely, sadistic creature or one who has a heart wrapped in thorns with the longing for a novel to struggle past and touch what remains inside, broken flesh, blood, and all.

I've always thought of myself as the lonely, sadistic creature that no one could truly love, but since you, I've realized this hasn't been the case.

Oh, how I wish you could unwrite a story that has already been told. Erase it, press delete until the words vanish, and all that remains is a new brilliant white page to scar.

A new beginning.

Bone Island by Nicole Fiorina