“Whenever I see a grammatical error in my writing I feel like I'm standing in Central Park naked.”

“Through the damp fabric of my coverall, bundled in my blanket, I feel naked. Raw. He sees more than I want, more than I can bear. It’s like standing before him ... while he stares at my scars, pitiless and unmoved.”

“I don't know what this feeling is... I only know that I feel safe in your arms. My heart races every time I see you, I can't catch my breath when I'm around you, and I'm on fire whenever you touch me...”

“All I'm writing is just what I feel, that's all. I just keep it almost naked. And probably the words are so bland.”

“But sometimes, I feel like something's missing, and I can’t quite put my finger on it. That little something extra. Excitement. A challenge. An adventure. Maybe I should bungee jump off of the empire state building or run naked in central park. Nah, that would just be plain crazy, and I'd get arrested. That wouldn't end up well. Unless there was a hot guy dressed in a uniform fingerprinting me. Then it might just be worth it.”

“2 am and I'm still awake writing a song if I get it all down I'll be where it's no longer inside of me threatening the life it belongs to. And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd cause these words are my diary screaming out loud and I know you will use them however you want to.”