“We are only beautiful monsters, dreaming of god.”

She was a broken sky, where stars never shine and butterflies die.

She wanted love. So I fed her, inch by inch.

She’s like turning on the radio and hearing a brand new song.

She’s just a girl. But her pussy makes me see god.

I gave her address to my soul. Ans she fucked the mailman.

I liked her simplicity. She wanted coffee and orgasms.

In an endless universe, she needed space.

I messed up a lot of things. I called it poetry.

Overcoming guilt, its the first step to doing it again.

Sometimes there are no words. Sometimes, it’s just poetry.

I wake to find her there, with glowing eyes and tangled hair. She is my sunrise.

Her memory still lingers, like a cockroach in my heart.

True love is letting her know that her ass really does look fat in those jeans.

If there’s never been a restraining order, it ain’t love.

It wasn’t forever. But I loved her until I hated her.

She was only a collection of flaws and she was beautiful.

The level of peace you attain after success is beautiful.

I can’t wait to collect memories from every corner of the earth to splash in the vastness of this beautiful world.

Poetry isn’t about beautifying the words; Its about stripping off its thick cover and appreciating the rawness.

Learn to appreciate your flaws, they make you beautiful.

The most beautiful gift that a writer can receive is to know that the reader can feel the emotions in every word.

when the oceans heart breaks and the mermaid cries, her tears become sea glass-a gentle reminder that sometimes beautiful things come from pain.

Let the moon teach you the art of scars. How beautiful you can shine, even with craters in your heart.

A smile is the simplest yet most beautiful sign of beauty.