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

Kiss the words from my lips like a love poem.

One thing that makes me prefer people over books is shared laughter.

The way she danced through life was poetry.

We fell in love because we were both summer souls.

Summer was soaked with you.

I fell in love with the way you wanted more.

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

Give me love like summer rain.

This wild heart beats restlessness.

I search for summer in every corner of september.

A lover should be two things at once: the wild and a home.

I can’t wait for the day to be wild again.

We are mind wanderers enchanted by the world inside our heads.

I can’t wait for half a love because I’ve always needed more.

Autumn sheds the leaves like tear drops.

All my summer memories sparkle in riverbed reflections.

The elusive nature of love it can be such a fleeting thing. You see it there and it’s just fluttering and it’s gone.

Humility must always be doing its work like a bee making honey in the hive: without humility all will be lost.

First I lost weight, then I lost my voice, and now I’ve lost Onassis.

The freedom to think out loud on certain topics, without fear of being hounded into hiding or killed, has already been lost.

You are not controlling the storm, and you are not lost in it. You are the storm.

Though love might be gone, hope shall not be lost.

The beautiful yet chaotic irony of it all is that; because of you, I lost myself, and yet, because of you, I found myself.

For those who may be hurting over lost love: Don’t cry because it is over, smile because it happened.