“Sometimes even in pain we smile to the world until we think we’re dying.”

I swear I love her so much that somedays I can’t quite tell if I’m just a good liar.

You’re gone. And I think I’m only trying to mean a lot to myself too.

To heal is to be constantly reminded that once you learn to punch, you die with blood on your wrist.

There’s a constant battle of me and healing; all of which still sits burning and intricately perplexed in ink.

Either the jump or the drown, loving her has always readied me for the fire.

If ever the fall is the ground, someone tell her I’m this close to soil, and I can feel it!

These sharp edges you left behind, they cut so deep; and I guess maybe I am just not dying enough.

Breathe in the pain and bring out the wounds. It’s only a process and you’ll learn to survive the rest.

Give everything some time; pain hasn’t learn to walk yet.

Somedays depression is tender, as though hurting is just an art; and that maybe she didn’t break me more than enough!

Like a fractured bone in the ribs, the heart can be painfully heavy sometimes.

Perhaps I mistook the pain with work in progress.

When I say I love you, I mean something raw something below the surface of all waters; something almost too naked and true!

Like her name, some people are best left scrouged on the skin.

I’ve been quiet most of today. By which I mean I can see myself in the mirror; And believe me it is something hard to look at these days.

I guess you’re the bee and the stings all at once; By which I mean you’re the reason I wrap these tired bones around every aching thing.

When the aristocracy catches a cold, as it is said, the working class dies of pneumonia.

An imbalance between rich and poor is the oldest and most fatal ailment of all republics.

The poor go to war, to fight and die for the delights, riches, and superfluities of others.

Most people would sooner die than think; in fact, they do so.

When you live for others’ opinions, you are dead. I don’t want to live thinking about how I’ll be remembered.

To fear love is to fear life, and those who fear life are already 3 parts dead.

I believe that when I die I shall rot, and nothing of my ego will survive.

The world is not better off without you so stay.