“Let’s go back when we still saw stories in the stars.”

It’s january, it’s cold and I search the sky for summer like I always do.

Silent lips speak the deepest truths.

Nights were made for broken hearts.

We always live for the summer until we don’t live it at all.

I lost and found myself in all your maybe’s.

I live in the imaginary wild and its soft as summer.

Sometimes getting lost is just the right direction.

Today, she decided to sparkle. And so she did.

I see the world in shades of you.

It takes effort to make it to forever.

There’s too much hurt in loving but too little life in not.

It’s not songs that remind me of lost lovers. It’s poems.

With each daydream she weaved her pastel heart into the sky.

Spring is poetry poured into nature.

I dreamed in skies of blue before september stole all the light.

She loves her lonely moments the silence away from the crowds, when its just her daydreaming.

What broke you, won’t heal you.

Nothing compares to the emptiness we both share.

For everything you have missed, you have gained something else, and for everything you gain, you lose something else.

She always had the feeling that it was very, very dangerous to live even one day.

Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.

I meant to write about death, only life came breaking in as usual.

Anyone who has lost something they thought was theirs forever finally comes to realise that nothing really belongs to them.

The world breaks everyone, and afterward, many are strong at the broken places.