“The hardest part of living is experiencing death without dying.”

I’ve never known anyone I was afraid to lose until I met you. – You.

Misery doesn’t love just any company it desires the kind presence only loneliness feeds but that’s not love at all. – love doesn’t eat it bleeds.

I’ve learned that the challenge doesn’t lie in finding love but healing from those who didn’t know what love is. – lessons in love.

The weight of honesty lies heavy in sweaty palms, preparing to speak the truth to a world that is not ready to hear it. – not everyone can handle your honesty.

I hear the rain fall and suddenly I don’t feel so alone because the sky is crying too.

We make time for the things that matter most to us – I guess I didn’t matter much to myself.

I’ve learned that the challenge doesn’t lie in finding love but healing from those who didn’t know what love is. – lessons in love.

A bleeding heart takes longer to catch up with the rationale of a busy mind. – emotions aren’t linear.

As the morning dawns my soul stands motionless before your presence be still and know is my hearts meditation.

Life is so fragile, yet we beat it to death and expect to live longer.

All of the words in her head keep her from being lonely but they aren’t always kind.

Whats your greatest fear? I’m afraid of heights. Do you fear the heights in which you stand or at the depths to which you may fall? – fear of falling.

Memories are lifelines to the lives we’ve lost.

I don’t want your sympathy I need salvation. – salvation.

I ate my grief and swallowed salt tears like they were the only things left on earth to consume.

They say the sky’s the limit what happens when you hit the ceiling?

God’s finger touched him, and he slept.

My parents hated me. All I ever heard was, “Why can’t you be like your cousin Shelia? Why can’t you be like your cousin Shelia?” Shelia had died at birth.

A mind can bleed a heart to death.

Drive me to a ditch and I’ll dig the grave myself through conversation.

When we hang the capitalists they will sell us the rope we use.

What a fragile, dying thing love turned out to be.

Thou madest man, he knows not why, he thinks he was not made to die.

A farewell to my shadow is not my death; it’s my rebirth in darkness.