Poetry is the loveliest art. It has a wretched way of revealing our own character when we think we are judging the poets.
NICOLE LYONSEvery now and then I roam the catacombs in my head and attempt to resurrect you, and make you shiny again.
More Nicole Lyons Quotes
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Be bold, child. You are rare and you are brazen light.
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I still pick at these memories of you; I pick them until they bleed.
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I write because suicide is no longer an option.
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Dance with me. Bring my demons to their knees.
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Oh my darling, you mustn’t fill up on memories alone, there is heartache and regret yet to be served.
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I swear if I were to rip myself open, it wouldn’t be blood that poured out of me, it would be him.
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I promised to touch your soul. I never said it would be painless.
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On paper I have killed you a thousand times but my heart disregards clever words.
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Some souls were never meant to be content.
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I think you were my taste of heaven after a lifetime of eating hell.
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Melancholy- My longest of lost lovers has returned to dance with me Again I loved him; intensely.
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She is of the strangest beauty and the darkest courage, and when she walks with intent the earth trembles beneath her feet.
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They build ladders from my spine and they climb and they fall and they break me, and they climb again.
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I drink to the ones that can sit with their souls and not wish for sleep and the nightmares it brings.
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He left love letters at my door, and a chalk outline on the highway.
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One day I will fall gracefully to pieces. Until then, I’ll just fall.
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There is no greater power than that of the sun, the moon, and a woman who knows her worth.
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You were a lifetime ago, yet here I am, still pulling pieces of you out of me.
NICOLE LYONS -
I like my soul when it touches yours; winter turns to summer and my nightmares become dreams.
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If I had known our last kiss was to be our last kiss, I would have kissed you as if it was our first.
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How recklessly we turn from strangers and blindly back to lovers, to nothing.
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Be patient with me, dear heart. The art of loving is a peculiar business when one has spent an eternity hating themselves.
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I like you here, between commas, where the only thing you can break now, is my lines.
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I breathe him in so deep that when he is gone I exhale and taste him again.
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Pleasure or pain; I’ll take either as long as it is laced with passion.
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I have known love and I have known loss, but in the end, they both looked a lot like you.
NICOLE LYONS