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

I am suffocated by the arms, I once called home.

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.

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.

If someone breaks your heart, just punch them in the face. Seriously. Punch them in the face and go get some ice cream.

Sadness diminishes a man’s powers.

Our lives are like the wind or like sounds. We come into being, resonate with each other. Then fade away.

Do not be too hard, lest you be broken; do not be too soft, lest you be squeezed.

It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men.

When the heart is dry the eye is dry.

If you talk to a man in a language he understands, that goes to his head. If you talk to him in his language, that goes to his heart.

There are no events but thoughts and the heart’s hard turning, the heart’s slow learning where to love and whom. The rest is merely gossip, and tales for other times.