“Like a flower, that hides from the sun and discovers it still grows and blooms, I am learning that I too, can survive the dark, without you.”

Isn’t it a lovely thing watching flowers greet the wind as if a gentle kiss is all they need to dance.

I’m like a lost bird. My wings are not broken, but my heart is. Love always kept me flying. But now, love is what keeps me still.

Sometimes our greatest strength is our greatest weakness sometimes to love is to fall.

I’ve painted stars around tears that I’ve cried. And now my pain is a galaxy and every star has a name and every name feels like pain and you’re every star.

The sun never gets tired of kissing the sky, goodnight. And my heart will never tire of a love, like that.

She fades away falls behind the curtain of the night and retreats beyond the darkness as though she is gone for good. Yet, she always returns. And so does, love.

Snow relies on branches much like I rely on love but snow knows how to let go and I know how much it hurts.

Dawn breaks and this heart breaks, too. Yet the sun continues to rise and this heart of mine knows only of the journey down, like an eclipse of the heart.

Pain made me grow in the most unexpected places. And now I know what it feels like to be a wildflower.

I wish for a world where our hearts could be seen on the outside and we acred more about what our love looked like than our faces.

I am not scared of what I may find within the darkness of this forest line. But I do fear what the wild may find in me. I do fear that kind of vulnerability.

It was meant to be just rain, that went away. Yet we became the storm, of yesterday.

Wouldn’t it be a different world if love passed as freely through us as money passes through hands.

We are much like the nights sky, the big things draw our attention. But its the little things that really light us up.

I’m holding onto you, like a cloud holds rain. Knowing at some point I must let go. But waiting for the perfect storm, that will make it so much easier.

Sometimes my lion will try to roar back when I flee. But its my butterfly that keeps me silent when I leave.

No matter what, you must let your inner light guide you out of the darkness.

The thought of suicide is a great consolation: by means of it one gets through many a dark night.

To love or have loved, that is enough. Ask nothing further. There is no other pearl to be found in the dark folds of life.

Raindrops blossom brilliantly in the rainbow, and change to flowers in the sod, but snow comes in full flower direct from the dark, frozen sky.

Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.

I find hope in the darkest of days, and focus in the brightest. I do not judge the universe.

See, the darkness is leaking from the cracks. I cannot contain it. I cannot contain my life.

We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.