Kat Savage Quotes

Most love, I've observed, is narcissism at its finest and most cunning. Love is always about how you feel but not necessarily how the other person feels. The notion that simply because you love someone they should be willing to love you in return.

Language can make a murderer a saint, a victim deserving, and a lover a stranger.

I miss you in pieces. Only in pieces. I never allow myself to miss the whole of you. I wouldn't survive it. And neither would you.

I am not an emptier I can’t put something down to pick something else up. I don’t unlove someone to love someone else. They pile in my heart, one on top of the other until I can’t tell them apart. Old loves are a bottomless well of ink in my chest, and I dip my fingers in often. If you have ever known my love it still exists here. This is my gift and my curse, my burden my ache and my fuel.

and your smug smile will be the death of you I will ruin you, ruin the idea of me for you, ruin what you think you want

I know somewhere you have my heart in an exhibit, with pins holding it open on display in one of those cases that usually keep beautiful dead butterflies. I know you like to watch as it struggles through the agony still trying to beat for you in all its reckless glory.

You will never know what hit you, a sucker punch to your belief system, I will stand over you, laughing, asking you to tell me again how you will wreck you

Be kind to your body, woman, goddess Be kind to it because others may not

I’ve lived as a savage for years. I’ve lived an existence more animal than human. That’s the way I want to take you.” His eyes clamped closed as I stroked him. “I want to throw you onto all fours, shove between your legs, and fuck you until you can’t walk. I want to come inside you until I can’t come anymore and every last seed in my body is swimming in yours. I want to mate with you. I want to breed you. I want to mount you and make you scream my name while I take your body again, and again”—something dark flashed in his eyes when they opened, his cock throbbing in my hand—“and again.

tell me, how many times you lost your voice to someone who wasn't even listening?

We want to believe we are good and kind and fair But the I remember Medusa, snakes for hair, the monster they made her I think about women today, punished for being raped, just like her I just don’t think they know yet the monsters they are making

Jesus. Goddamn. Forgive me, Father. Christ.

In so many ways you think I am beautiful, and in so many ways you are relieved to be at a safe distance. You cannot look away from my magnificence, but you are so glad you are not mangled in my steel.

My heart is an abandoned house, with the windows boarded up and the front doorknob missing. People came to visit, they came and went, left their garbage, left anything they no longer wanted. There are ghosts in the walls and regret has been ground into the carpet. No one wants to live here. Not even me.

And if you could stop looping back around to take a little more of me each time, I think I could heal. I can't let you use me as a pit stop anymore. I can't let you come and go as you please.

All the women of my family embrace and pass on their unhealthy obsessions with weight, with body image, an inheritance I never asked for, one I hope I can escape.