“Your smile is watching a flower bloom in love. Shy at first, then your brightness unfolds and you magically decorate the world with your flashy hues.”

On my knees, lips slightly parted thirsty, ready for a strong stiff one. Make it neat I love the burn.

I’m suffocating on empty promises and twisted truths. I’m drowning in a bottomless pool of illusion.

I’m the fire that dances in the rain, I’m the love that lives in my heart. I’m the broken heart that crashes, I’m the phoenix rising from the ashes. I’m healing and scars, I’m the sun and all the stars.

Your smile keeps me longing for the taste of your lips pressed against my soul.

Insomnia. Restless soul. Long dark nights. Haunted heavy heart feels. Foggy.

Although you stood before me in all your tangible glory, your love evaporated like an illusion melting in my hands.

I’m the queen of broken hearts with a reign that’s sure to last.

She is dandelion wishes and watermelon kisses. He is tumultuous fire and venomous desire.

Love is my religion and let it use me to be the light on the darkest of nights.

Tainted with lies, toxic fire dancing in your eyes. Kisses like poison arrows aiming for the heart killing me softly. Toxic love is an art.

I do not know how to love gently. Devour me completely leaving no insecurities behind. Let me taste every drop of your devotion. Lets run like the wolves and never let go.

You’re the secret whisper of the mountain. The fresh water stream that babbles down the majestic moonlit reverie. You’re the silent hush of screaming stars that ache my heart with the taste of magic.

This heart of mine wears battle scars, only a beast could understand. A hunter must be patient in this war zone of land.

I walk around like a faded ghost, a shell of a person waiting to be filled with your love which brings me to life like a cup of morning coffee.

Mold me into poetry. Make me flow beautifully and deep. Write me into rhythmic verses with silent words that make me weep. Paint me with emotions like a bleeding sunset on a shore.

If only love spilled from lips and truth bled from hearts then hate would drown in a flood of understanding.

By Fate full many a heart has been undone, And many a sprightly rose made woe-begone; Plume thee not on thy lusty youth and strength: Full many a bud is blasted ere its bloom.

The rose that once has bloomed forever dies.

She is the perfume that scents the environment she blooms in.

She spills the oceans of words and feelings on the pages of earth, transforming it into the green blooming planet.

Sometimes your heart was meant to break, so these broken pieces of yours can bloom in a garden of self-love.

Water your scars with self-love and watch them bloom into flowers of strength.

Plant seeds of hope in the cracks of your broken heart, with a little bit of patience it will soon begin to bloom again.

You are as beautiful as a blooming flower.