“Pride – it screams a lot louder than love sometimes.”

You look at me like supper, and I just want to be your last one this time.

You’re living the skyscraper life up high just so your ego can soar high.

You come back to ask me if I’m happy, and it shows me its you who isn’t.

We don’t belong to anyone. Half the time we don’t even belong to ourselves.

He says he wants to take me to Paris – but I see Amsterdam in his eyes.

Boys with skeletons in their closets – they make skeletons out of girls.

Lets admit it: we all play the game of hide and seek fairly well.

Please – stop living in boxes where you can’t breathe.

I want your madness, only if you promise to be mad about me.

I love things that smell like fire and taste like fumes: you.

We both chased our dreams and our dreams chased us. Yet we forgot to chase each other.

He wears a smile as bright as the heaven he fell from.

He’s my red adrenaline sky, but I just prayer he never paints me blue.

Its always the quiet ones who love the loudest.

I turned us into poetry because this is how we remain.

You give me butterflies in a stomach full of moths.

When you follow your soul you lose the control, as conditioning falls away the world becomes less loud; but then your soul tribe appear the ones who also vowed, to ensure the depths of their hearts found.

I may not speak loudly but my dear that is why I write.

I have a lot of faults. I often interrupt in meetings. I talk too loud. I talk too fast.

Silence is a loud language – weapon of the wise, solace of the tired hearts.

Exist so loud that even if you die tonight, your deeds illuminate like stars.

I have friends come over and we read plays out loud and I make paintings and I just do things all the time just so I don’t ever feel like I’m sitting around.

The quiet hearts speaks the loudest prayer, hoping someone would hear.

Whenever you notice your thoughts detour into attack mode, say out loud or to yourself: Happiness is a choice I make.