“Tell me about the city you grew up in, how you like to take your tea let me see the world through your eyes; be the muse to my literacy.”

I want to feel that way again when you look into my eyes i couldn’t look away as if i was spellbound.

Raided my heart, after you lust for me among others, for some reason you chose me it was chaos at first sight.

You are in my blood no one can break this bond.

I warned you not to play with matches but you said you loved the heat. Darling, the inferno warms you but it spreads like wildfire. Now, we’re both in ruins.

Even though he is not mine I wish him a heart fully made & even though, to my love he is blind for him my love will never fade.

Tease me over & again, moon over my night a meteor-like allure strike through my heart.

Stay with me in this inferno and together we’ll watch the world burn.

If this should end in fire come, fill this desire.

It is not the world I fear but what becomes of me; when you disappear so understand it is you I cannot sacrifice with you in my life-I’ll suffice.

If you are a painter my love, then I will be your writer.

In the cold you left me, that is how my love for you came to be.

You shall have all that is in this garden.

I loved you as Icarus loved the sun, too close, too much.

I want a love that meets me half way. A love filled with chivalry as if it were written in old days.

Who am I to write about love when I don’t know the very definition of it, It seems, love itself does not favor me.

In each passing day, I hope I love you less but somehow this love stays and my heart is yours nonetheless.

If you try to go for a big two-hour nap, you get groggy. You wanna just nap, like close your eyes a little bit and then just fall asleep for a little bit and then get up. Then be like, okay, I’m up.

Your eyes looking into mine, this is how two eclipses collide.

In just the same way the thousands of successive positions of a runner are contracted into one sole symbolic attitude, which our eye perceives, which art reproduces, and which becomes for everyone the image of a man who runs.

The mind is the eyesight of the soul.

Your eyes told me stories you have never shared with anyone.

It’s easier to hurt someone and make them cry, than it is to dry their eyes.

Her eyes made me feel better.

O the eye’s light is a noble gift of Heaven! All beings live from light, each fair created thing; the very plants turn with a joyful transport to the light.