“I promised to touch your soul. I never said it would be painless.”

When I told you that I hadn’t been broken before; it wasn’t a fucking challenge.

I like my soul when it touches yours; winter turns to summer and my nightmares become dreams.

I have been covered in easy kisses from uneasy lips, and I know I smell weary again.

And that is the nature of us poets and whores, to make things hard: dicks, choices, life.

One day I will fall gracefully to pieces. Until then, I’ll just fall.

Whatever it is that stirs your soul listen to that. Everything else is just noise.

He calms my chaos and I fuel his fire. We are a match made between heaven and hell.

Dance with me. Bring my demons to their knees.

We were electric together, you and me; we turned hurting each other into a goddamned symphony.

You can fan the flames with hate or stroke the fire with love, either way, it’s going to burn.

I drink to the ones who can sit with their souls and not wish for sleep and the nightmares it brings.

The tide has pulled the storm from my soul again. But in all that is right or wrong and pure, there is you, and your stunning ability to blur the lines and just be.

I breathe him in so deep that when he is gone I exhale and taste him again.

I will not force a pretty smile upon my face to please eyes that no longer see me.

Moon child with your galaxy heart, cool your heels and stay awhile.

He was exactly like hitting a red light during a killer streak of green.

The awareness is not part of the darkness or the pain; it holds the pain, and knows it, so it has to be more fundamental, and closer to what is healthy and strong and golden within you.

The essence of generosity is letting go. Pain is always a sign that we are holding on to something – usually ourselves.

Resisting what is happening is a major cause of suffering.

Fear is bound to disappear when you realize that failure is not something shameful, damaging, destructive, or painful, but something natural.

Other men’s pains are easily borne.

There are accents in the eye which are not on the tongue, and more tales come from pale lips than can enter an ear. It is both the grandeur and the pain of the remoter moods that they avoid the pathway of sound.

Fear is a great signal. It’s like a pain signal. Hey, look at me, look at me. Get your focus right over here, at the pain.

Give a little kindness, everyone houses some kind of pain.