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Because sooner or later, all kinds of love – crazy love, wild love- fade into the same thing. The love becomes old and predictable -safe.

Lang Leav

Remember, your words are your power. Never forget your words.
LANG LEAV

Forget Power Remember Word
I wish I could put a pen in your hand and gently remind you how the world has given you poetry and now you must give it back.
LANG LEAV

Hands Poetry Reminder Yourself
Where the strangers we meet, take us down one way streets, and forgetting is something we’re taught.
LANG LEAV

Forget Meet Myself Stranger Teaching
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
The things that seem to matter less, are the ones we put on show.
LANG LEAV

Oneself Show Value
Here’s to those who wish us well, and the rest can go to hell!
LANG LEAV

Hell Ourselves Rest
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
Yes, we took it all for granted-but isn’t that such a blessed thing? When you’re not even thinking about what you have, because you never imagine you someday won’t.
LANG LEAV

Blessing Grant Imagination Relationship Thinking Yourself
People who are prone to sadness are more likely to pick up a pen.
LANG LEAV

People Poet Sadness Writing
And the weather was so damn sick of being predictable; I heard it began snowing in the Sahara and I wanted to tell you that I’ve changed.
LANG LEAV

Change Myself Prediction Sick
I build my walls from the mess they leave.
LANG LEAV

Build Leave Mess Myself Wall
Don’t you get it?” he said. “The ones who are afraid of heights don’t trust themselves enough to jump.
LANG LEAV

Enough Fall Height Jump Trust Yourself
When was the last time you felt like someone knew you and not the person you’ve been pretending to be. When was the last time you felt like yourself.
LANG LEAV

Be Yourself Feeling Pretend Time
I know there is a terrible distance between us. But our bodies are made of stardust, and we are hurtling through space and time, toward the most beautiful collision.
LANG LEAV

Beautiful Body Collision Distance Hurt Known Myself Space Time
He and I 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

Existence Myself Silence
To love is a dare, when hope and despair, are gates upon it hinges.
LANG LEAV

Dare Despair Gate Hope Love

Because sooner or later, all kinds of love – crazy love, wild love- fade into the same thing. The love becomes old and predictable -safe.

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Because sooner or later, all kinds of love – crazy love, wild love- fade into the same thing. The love becomes old and predictable -safe.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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