“From the ashes I rise, I am blooming into something radiant.”

It’s her black wings that make her beautiful.

I was born to chase peace and love wild things. I was born a beautiful bohemian paradox.

The world needs more fierce warriors who are soft and kind.

He is the sun melting the snow in my heart.

I know a beautiful soul when I feel one. The empath in me honors the authentic in you.

Once our souls collided and caught fire, there was no turning back.

She was the night, in love with the stars, always chasing the moon.

Words alone mean little. Show me your eyes; that’s where I’ll decipher your truth from your lies.

Undress my soul one petal at a time.

She can be dainty and still have claws. She can be sweet and still make fire. That’s her magic.

I think my soul was born with wings; it’s always restless, it won’t sit still.

When I told you to ruin me I wasn’t referring to my heart.

My soul is wild but my heart is loyal and true.

Some people help you see the world differently, those are my kind of people.

I have no room for monsters and cowards claiming to be something they’re not, who lie to get what they want.

Don’t want a complicated love. Just want you to grab my demons, kiss my madness and run away with me.

Try to believe that still within you are flowers left to bloom.

Let yourself breathe. Let yourself grow. Give all your petals permission to unfold.

She understood what it meant to have a breathing space, she gave her loved ones enough to bloom in the light of sparkling silence.

The way we identify and awaken is all a natural process for life waking up to itself. Already awake. There is truly nothing you can do! You can not force a flower to bloom.

I will always remember you. And the way I bloomed. Not with you, but after you.

She is like water lily, because in the most hostile waters she blooms.

Pleasures are like poppies spread: You seize the flow’r, its bloom is shed.

Sometimes it takes going back to your roots to bloom.