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I don’t know how you are so familiar to me-or why it feels less like I am getting to know you and more as though I am remembering who you are. How every smile, every whisper brings me closer to the impossible conclusion that I have known you before, I have loved you before-in another time, a different place, some other existence.

Lang Leav

I learned that writing is the consolation prize you are given when you don’t get the thing you want the most.
LANG LEAV

Award Heart Broken Learning Myself Prize Writing Yourself
you cannot control the depth of a wound another inflicts upon you.
LANG LEAV

Depth Inflict Wound Yourself
Somehow, there is a sense of comfort in knowing nothing will ever hit me quite as hard again. Nothing will ever be as beautiful, but neither will anything hurt as much.
LANG LEAV

Beautiful Comfortable Hurt Known Myself Willing
Your first love isn’t the first person you give your heart to- it’s the first one who breaks it.
LANG LEAV

Deep Heart Broken Love Oneself Yourself
Every day I measure the weight of my past against the present and feel the drag of what could have been.
LANG LEAV

Day Drag Measurement Myself Past Present
If you have to be with someone at all, then be with someone who makes you feel like you are still in control.
LANG LEAV

Control Feeling Togetherness Yourself
How do I thank my mother for giving me the life she desperately wanted to give herself.
LANG LEAV

Desperate Herself Life Mom Thankful
To love is a dare, when hope and despair, are gates upon it hinges.
LANG LEAV

Dare Despair Gate Hope Love
That night, we talked the way old friends do, with candor and ease.
LANG LEAV

Friendship Night Talk
That’s the thing about happiness. It doesn’t require justification.
LANG LEAV

Happiness Justification
I have buried myself so deep in my words that sometimes I can’t tell if I am the person writing or the one hiding between the lines.
LANG LEAV

Bury Hide Myself Person Poem Word Writing
I love you, I do – you have my word. You have all my words.
LANG LEAV

I Love You Word Yourself
What is she like? I was told – she is a melancholy soul.
LANG LEAV

Melancholy Sadness Soul
A Betrayal I cannot undo what I have done; I can’t un-sing a song that’s sung. And the saddest thing about my regret- I can’t forgive me, and you can’t forget.
LANG LEAV

Betrayal Forgiveness Regret Sadness Sing Yourself
I don’t think about myself as much as I used to. I guess that’s a good thing. I only think about the things that are missing from me.
LANG LEAV

Goodness Missing Myself Thinking
I think there is a sense of ownership in knowing, isn’t there? You let people in, and they claim parts of you-they fly their flag over uncharted territory and from then onward-you cease to belong wholly to yourself.
LANG LEAV

Known People Self Love Thinking Whole Yourself

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