“I left because I knew; no matter how much I loved you, my love for myself was far greater.”

We’re a creation of words, constantly looking for acceptance in places we don’t belong.

To grow up is to experience all sorts of heartaches & still manage to see the beauty in every pain.

To love you is to drown every day & still crave the taste of the ocean.

Just like flowers; we shed, only to learn how to prosper again.

I was left with a fragile heart yet, I learned to embrace all my broken pieces.

You were a beautiful dream but dreams dont last long.

I’m seeking endings for tales that have never begun.

You will know your worth eventually & you will heal with time; slowly, yet beautifully.

We drift through life seeking second chances only to lose them once they’re given to us.

I seek calmness in between your words, amidst the chaos that consumes mine

Just like the moon. Keep glowing even when darkness is consuming you.

Perhaps we were meant to end so this heart of mine learns how to love itself again.

One day; you will learn to love yourself just enough to let them go.

It was beautiful for as long as it lasted, you’ve felt it all & now it’s time to move on.

When they break you; collect your broken pieces & bloom elsewhere. For you’re a flower in the land of those who love you.

We rise from ashes; too damaged to be touched. yet, strong enough to rebuild kingdoms.

Everyone’s gone through a breakup, and I’ve dated girls in the past where… I’ve never had a messy breakup, thankfully, but I’m never the one to end it. I’m always caught off guard as to why things ended because I guess I’m oblivious in a way.

To be alive is to be broken; to be broken is to stand in need of grace.

I dreamed about these moments, and I think I hoped I would have them, but you don’t know. So when the lucky break hits, it’s like being Cinderella and hopefully midnight doesn’t come.

As for what concerns our relations with our fellow men, the anguish in our neighbor’s soul must break all precept. All that we do is a means to an end, but love is an end in itself, because God is love.

We’re not broken, just bent, and we can learn to love again.

There’s a mystery in you; a puzzle to solve- mystical elements to a love that you’ve longingly ached for.

I think life would mean nullity if grace does not pick my hand again to reach you.

Sunsets feel so lonely now without you.