“I spend every evening praying for the dawn.”

There’s no reason keepin’ secrets, maybe regret is a weakness.

I give you piece’s of my secrets like religion to believe in.

Baby, I’ve tried, but I can’t unlove you.

The hardest part of leaving is to make it look so easy… isn’t that the unfortunate fuckin truth.

I remember I was there for you bitches, when nobody cared for you bitches.

Life can be fuckked upppp… but it sure is beautiful.

My mind is scarier than my demons.

Things don’t always work out the way you plan and we’ve discovered that sometimes for the best.

Darlin if I could, I would fall for someone good.

It’s always been hard for me to walk away from people I love when I’ve grown to become reliant on even some of their most harmful traits.

I will always love the worst of you.

It’s easier to let a heart wait than make a heartbreak.

No eternal reward will forgive us now for wasting the dawn.

What have they done to the earth? What have they done to our fair sister?

A poet is a verb that blossoms light in gardens of dawn, or sometimes midnight.

Erotic play discloses a nameless world which is revealed by the nocturnal language of lovers. Such language is not written down. It is whispered into the ear at night in a hoarse voice. At dawn it is forgotten.

Say, has some wet bird-haunted English lawn Lent it the music of its trees at dawn?

Clapping my hands with the echoes the summer moon begins to dawn.

Rising from the ashes on wings of tomorrow. Her strength carries her into the dawn of new beginnings.

I keep waiting and hoping for the next dawn to be ours.