“My love be patient for your sun will rise again.”

In my quiet is when the voices in my head get the loudest.

Within me lies an abundance of love that your ego was too blind to see.

Perfection is what I craved, from a far from perfect world.

All burdens are gifted heavy, but through you runs a abundance of strength strong enough to carry it.

My skin will continue to carry your memories, even if my mind wants to forget.

There is strength in breaking and becoming.

I refuse to be strong for them, for I’m allowing myself to embrace my weak.

Beauty now lies behind some of the deepest of scars where pain once called home.

There is magic in shattering, for the most beautiful masterpieces are made from broken glass.

They ask me what it is to be a woman, as if I have to explain what it is to be a human.

I’ve seen far too many people lose their chance, waiting for others to catch up.

Never allow for temporary thoughts take over the permanence of your heart.

Alas, we found ourselves living in a broken world with sad souls but happy masks.

Those who try to break you, come shattered themselves.

She deserved her skies of rainbows, after the many storms her mind endured.

And suddenly days slowed down when I didn’t have you by me.

Oh, thank you love With all my heart and soul I thank you love Each day that comes and goes I thank you love I thank you ’cause you gave me true love

To love is to be delighted by the happiness of someone, or to experience pleasure upon the happiness of another. I define this as true love.

I think autumn can teach us a lot about love. About how muh beauty can be hidden in layers of change.

You hate someone whom you really wish to love, but whom you cannot love. Perhaps he himself prevents you. That is a disguised form of love.

God loves to take people from broken backgrounds and surprise them with possibilities.

I feel like, with makeup, I really picked it up on my own. There’s no one really in my family – my grandma is probably the closest – who loves makeup like I do.

She was at that modulating point between indifference and love, at the stage called having a fancy for. It occurs once in the history of the most gigantic passions, and it is a period when they are in the hands of the weakest will.

Half the misery in the world comes of want of courage to speak and to hear the truth plainly and in a spirit of love.