Don’t give your heart to a poet – we see stories in a sentence and haunt you with our ink.
M.K. STANDBY
Related Topics
Immigrant
Born in one country and raised in another – seperated by ocean, but tied in blood.
More M.K. Standby Quotes
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Don’t give your heart to a poet – we see stories in a sentence and haunt you with our ink.
M.K. STANDBY -
The leaves know when to let go – if only I had the same instinct.
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Maybe this time I choose ignorance, because giving began to feel like losing – repairing a house from rubble, and making sandcastles with the ash.
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My throat burns with the words left unspoken, air hangs still and silence hides the words you long to hear – stay.
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In the pale light of a setting sun – I’ll hold your hand and promise to love you more, on the days that you forget to love yourself.
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A fight of a thousand years – the smart mind and the hopeful heart.
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The bond of friendship as tight as any lover – where shoulders carry shared burden, a devotion unmatched by any other.
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It started the way it always does. A broken heart, and a blank page.
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A dishonor greater than any affair, is that of a friend who never was.
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The smell of oak reminds me of summers spent sleeping under canvas, crackling fires and roasted coffee, the soft sound of guitar and voices in unison.
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Spirits dance on a velvet night, the sky it’s deepest black. In restless sleep and twisted dreams, they find themselves alive.
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I think the scars that you left me, they remind me you were real.
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I fill the shadow of the girl you want, a placeholder to the one I know you’d rather – I’ll do for now, but not forever.
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I wished to every fountain, prayed to every god but some futures are set in stone – so here we go again.
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In the end it’s all the same – the hearty fire or the damp earth. I pray I’m not alone.
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We didn’t know it was simpler, did we? Those days of sunburnt youth and carefree adventure. Knowing that indestructible optimism would waver with experience – would I have gripped it a little tighter? Held on a little longer?
M.K. STANDBY