“Piece by piece we rebuild the moon each night.”

Thoughts are just visitors passing through our minds, sometimes they stay awhile uninvited- anxiety.

You have always been able to manipulate my heart in such a way that even though I’m bleeding, I offer you band aids that are holding me together.

Forgiveness is a baked good it takes time and patience and i used to enjoy bouncing around the kitchen mixing sugar and love- but i don’t bake anymore.

I realize, no matter how much we grew, no matter how much we may have learnt, at the end of the day we both lost- because we didn’t have each other.

You are the sweet, soft, delicacy that delights my soul. I want to taste every part of your aura’s citrusy tang.

Dear me, I love you the most when you are being yourself.

Often all we can do is breathe, even that can be hard sometimes.

I’ve scattered poems all across this world so that if you ever decide to wonder about an old friend you could see that despite all my anger really- I just miss you.

Some things won’t change-some things can’t.

Last winter was colder than usual. Maybe it was the warmth that died with the millions of lives covid stole, or maybe it was the way close people betrayed me and left a gaping hole.

After the vines that were tightly wrapped around my neck finally loosened, I made a vow to never take breathing for granted again.

I wonder if she understands how different she is from any other friends I’ve had, If she recognizes how many of my poems are about the way our souls entwine, If she’ll ever know how much I love her.

I’ve grown to enjoy solitude it doesn’t feel as lonely when you are accompanied by a pen and paper.

It gives me chills the way the world trembles when the past is on its way back.

On my most dreary days, hand me a map of Europe and a cup of tea and just wait for my dreams to encapsulate my soul.

I have had many highs and lows in my short life neither stays long enough to be familiar.

Let me shed like the trees of fall, let me tick like the seasons clock, let me be like a content moon sometimes full sometimes cropped.

Sometimes, I feel sorry for you. I’m not there to hold you, and this clouded sky do not let you talk to the moon.

I threw it all away on a warming night of june, to live by the splendour of the sun, to hover by the virtues of the moon.

You could take me anywhere. You could take me to the moon, and believe me, everybody’s going to try to take a trip to the moon to watch me fight.

When I look at you, I see the moon – I wish you could see that you’re every poets muse.

And just like that, fostered beneath the stars. curated by moonlight, our love became incarnate.

It’s funny, there aren’t too many musicians that also moonlight as studio engineers. There’s a few – the really brilliant ones.

When the moonlight is kind enough to illuminate your darkness. How can you ever say you are lonely?