“Where the heart feels torn is where the blood rushes most and that’s where all the roads meet.”

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.

You’re the crescent moon cradling all theses shadows of me teach me how to shine so there’s no distance between you and I.

Pain is as dark as it is deep. But just like anything that receives enough light, it too will fade over time and become something, a little less ominous, and a little more hopeful.

The soul, which is spirit, can not dwell in dust; it is carried along to dwell in the blood.

Freedom has cost too much blood and agony to be relinquished at the cheap price of rhetoric.

The devil’s agents may be of flesh and blood, may they not?

Use your blood to paint. Keep painting until you faint. Keep painting until you die.

I have a violence in me that is hot as death-blood.

For in other ways a woman is full of fear, defenseless, dreads the sight of cold steel; but, when once she is wronged in the matter of love, no other soul can hold so many thoughts of blood.

You show me a capitalist, and I’ll show you a bloodsucker.

If you hire people just because they can do a job, they’ll work for your money. But if you hire people who believe what you believe, they’ll work for you with blood and sweat and tears.