black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

For she is his poet, and he is her poetry.

Lang Leav

That’s the thing about writers – on one hand everything is sacred to them, but, on the other, nothing really is.
LANG LEAV

Hands Oneself Sacred Writing
That night, we talked the way old friends do, with candor and ease.
LANG LEAV

Friendship Night Talk
When words run dry, he does not try, nor do I. We are on par. He just is, I just am and we just are.
LANG LEAV

Dry Existence Himself Myself Run Word
We had no ending, no said goodbye. For all my life, I’ll wonder why.
LANG LEAV

Ending Life Myself Wonder
He gave her such gifts – not the kind that were put in boxes, but the sort that filled her with imagination, breathing indescribable happiness into her life.
LANG LEAV

Breathing Gift Happiness Herself Imagination Indescribable Kind Life
Give me something I can write about.
LANG LEAV

Myself Story Writing
People who are prone to sadness are more likely to pick up a pen.
LANG LEAV

People Poet Sadness Writing
Where are you?” She asked. “I have been searching all my life.” “Stop looking for me,” Love replied, “and I will find you.
LANG LEAV

Finding Life Love Myself Searching
A book travels for days, for years, sometimes for centuries to meet you at an exact point in time.
LANG LEAV

Book Point Reading Time Travel
I still search for you in crowds, in empty fields and soaring clouds. In city lights and passing cars, on winding roads and wishing stars.
LANG LEAV

Break Up Crowd Empty Light Missing Myself Search Winding Yourself
The sad thing is,” she said, “the moment you start to miss someone, it means they’re already gone.
LANG LEAV

Missing Moments Sadness Yourself
I just hope you realize how much you mean to me. I just wish I could remind you of how beautiful you are. I’m sorry I haven’t told you in so long. But please don’t think I have given up on you. I will never give up on you. My arms are wide open. There is always a place for you here.
LANG LEAV

Beautiful Give Up Hope Myself Open Place Realize Reminder
Knowing sleep will set it right – if you were not to wake.
LANG LEAV

Known Right Sleep Wake Up Yourself
You are a writer bleeding words onto a page. And the ones who hate you will trample on that page. And the ones who love you will cut you, to keep you bleeding.
LANG LEAV

Blood Page Writing Yourself
Let her be herself. Or she will be somebody else’s.
LANG LEAV

Be Yourself Herself Identity
If they were meant to be in your life, nothing cover ever make them leave. If they weren’t, nothing in the world could make them stay.
LANG LEAV

Himself Leaving Life Myself Stay World

For she is his poet, and he is her poetry.

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For she is his poet, and he is her poetry.

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