Just tell me that it won’t be the same- that one day I won’t look at you, and only see a stranger.
M.K. STANDBYSpirits dance on a velvet night, the sky it’s deepest black. In restless sleep and twisted dreams, they find themselves alive.
More M.K. Standby Quotes
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Words hold little scope, for a love that stretches far beyond the limitations of language.
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So long as we share a sky, in this life and any after – I’ll find my way back to you.
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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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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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A full glass for an empty heart – the temporary bandage for a fatal would.
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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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Your kisses fell on me like sand through an hourglass – a thousand tiny moments, for an eternity of stillness.
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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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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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Peace found me in a wordless embrace – in the rising of autumn sun, and the sound of turning pages.
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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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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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My thoughts feel like plagiarism – a feeling already felt, the words already written.
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Her body may lay on your sheets, but my name sits softly on your lips.
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A dishonor greater than any affair, is that of a friend who never was.
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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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Don’t waste your words on me, your face speaks in volumes that your breath could never reach.
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What use is sleep, when reality is more beautiful than my dreams could ever muster?
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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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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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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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And in the end-you didn’t deserve my thoughts or my ink.
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Building a fire from a ash, what did I expect?
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I feel like I’m on fire, fighting for a moment on respite – I’m not placing bets.
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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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The leaves know when to let go – if only I had the same instinct.
M.K. STANDBY