I think the scars that you left me, they remind me you were real.
M.K. STANDBYYou are a mirage – never mine to hold. A glimering promise so tempting to chase, eternally out of reach.
More M.K. Standby Quotes
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My thoughts feel like plagiarism – a feeling already felt, the words already written.
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Building a fire from a ash, what did I expect?
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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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Lies sound so sweet when they are wrapped in velvet, a luxurious deception that charms my restless spirit – and I’m forever taken by beautiful things.
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Don’t give your heart to a poet – we see stories in a sentence and haunt you with our ink.
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A collection of thoughts bundled together and bound in twine – more toxic than any chemical, my very own poison.
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What use is sleep, when reality is more beautiful than my dreams could ever muster?
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You are a mirage – never mine to hold. A glimering promise so tempting to chase, eternally out of reach.
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And in the end when the money is gone – will you still stay it was worth it.
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I see the way that he is with you – holding your heart with softness he never spared for mine.
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A full glass for an empty heart – the temporary bandage for a fatal would.
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I’m scared of mediocrity, of scribing my soul on fading pages, each destined to the fate that met those before it – gently laid to rest in a growing pile of unwanted words.
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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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A dishonor greater than any affair, is that of a friend who never was.
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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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Scribbled lines and crumpled pages – piles of rejection and resurrection. There will never be the right words to amend a lost goodbye.
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You broke me into pieces, but I took those shards and built a mosaic. I’m stronger for the fall, and more beautiful than I could have ever been with you.
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Just tell me that it won’t be the same- that one day I won’t look at you, and only see a stranger.
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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?
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It started the way it always does. A broken heart, and a blank page.
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And in the end-you didn’t deserve my thoughts or my ink.
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Don’t waste your words on me, your face speaks in volumes that your breath could never reach.
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Leaves dance on twisted arms, swaying on the breeze as though choreographed by unseen hands. Even the faithless could find themselves converts, by the smell of dampened earth and its blossoming rose.
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14 days, but I can’t change my sheets. Your scents still marks my pillow – and its all that I have left.
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I sit by the sea wall, willing the waves to stay. Pulling away with gentle abandon – they avenge me for doing the same.
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Peace found me in a wordless embrace – in the rising of autumn sun, and the sound of turning pages.
M.K. STANDBY