“There was a time when I loved you too much that it made me feel the darkest shades of blue. It’s been years now, but I’m seeing life in other colors again.”

I am still weighed down by unspeakable heaviness- It follows like shadow currents.

I thought time would heal my broken heart, but its been forever since I fell in love and I’m scared that you took pieces of me that can’t be replaced.

Be here with me tonight, and lets sing the saddest moon song there ever was.

He grabbed my hand as the flames licked at my feet and the devil and I danced.

A place where our stories are rewritten, and six degrees of separation no longer troubles us.

My mother always told me that love is like a plant, but she never prepared me for the realization that too much love towards the wrong person can drown your heart until it rots.

I laugh and I cry and I reason on until the late night, but I never feel the urge to call you. The person that I once knew is forever frozen in time.

Spill yourself onto the page with ink and a half healed heart and watch the words blossom.

I like to think of myself as the sun, but it gets really lonely all the way out here especially when everything I try to touch burns.

I know I write too many love poems, and perhaps this is me admitting that the love inside me is still there somewhere, stagnant – but its a cruel addiction. I need a intervention.

A sea of jumbled emotions I had longed to live again, a feeling that no metaphor could match.

There were still embers scattered around me from the bridges I have burned. I wonder if they can feel it too. The space between us lingering like a scarlet letter, I’m learning how to love again.

There was a hesitation in your touch only time could see.

I learned to make art with my broken heart.

When the leaves begin to fall, I find myself returning to old playlists in hopes that I can feel you holding my hand, or kissing me goodnight, or hear you singing my name into songs and blueing when it makes no sense.

Even the places we used to visit in this empty town feel lyrical. My heart can’t help but sing along even now, but I’m tired.

I like the night. Without the dark, we’d never see the stars.

The cynic is one who never sees a good quality in a man, and never fails to see a bad one. He is the human owl, vigilant in darkness and blind to light, mousing for vermin, and never seeing noble game.

The story was a sleeping girl in a narrow bed Dark hair thick and wild and twisted like seaweed across the pillow.

To drive out the darkness, bring in the light.

If you are afraid of the dark, why do you keep on going back to it? You might be afraid of the light.

About Superman and Batman: the former is how America views itself, the latter, darker character is how the rest of the world views America.

Don’t fret the darkness in their souls it is their burden to carry not yours.

I couldn’t resist him, his eyes were like yours, his hair was exactly the shade of brown. He’s just not as tall, but I couldn’t tell, it was dark and I was lying down.