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

If truth be known it is not all about rainbows sometimes eyes of melancholic skies still shine they still find light and color despite the sky.

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.

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.

Honesty is a very expensive gift, Don’t expect it from cheap people.

All thoughts start from emotions.

If your heart is a volcano, how shall you expect flowers to bloom?

You must expect great things of yourself before you can do them.

There can be no greater gift than that of giving one’s time and energy to help others without expecting anything in return.

Don’t demand or expect that events happen as you would wish them do. Accept events as they actually happen. That way, peace is possible.

Good things aren’t supposed to just fall into your lap. God is very generous, but He expects you to do your part first.

You’ve got to expect things are going to go wrong. And we always need to prepare ourselves for handling the unexpected.