“Let the moon teach you the art of scars. How beautiful you can shine, even with craters in your heart.”

Beneath every scar there lies a tragedy, that we try to heal through writing poetry.

I hope you can feel me when I think of you.

Never mess with a poets heart for they know how to turn broken pieces in a written masterpiece of art.

Baby, tonight prepare yourself for a perfect storm, I will come over you like a hurricane with a terrifying force.

Before you let someone dive too deep in depths of your soul, make sure he knows how to swim.

Sometimes I write Because I don’t know what I’m feeling deep inside, or because I feel too many different feelings at the same time. And if I read it then it may make sense and will help me understand, what’s going on in my heart and head.

Healing is like dealing with the moods of the moon. Somedays you feel the pain at its fullest and you don’t know how to make it through it, and other days it feels a little bit more bearable.

I was not always strong. But I was always brave. And to be brave is strong enough.

She was poetry for a man who wasn’t able to feel her words.

Poetry has its own language which can only be understood, when you read it with your heart and feel it within your soul.

I knew it was real love the moment I could bare myself to you naked (without taking my clothes off) and I could show you all my scars (the ones that are invisible to the naked eye) and you loved me even more.

You will find poems hidden on my whole body, Which I would never be able to put into words and write them out.

She is someone who falls in love with imperfections. Like the moon with all her craters, hearts with cracks, and souls with scars. For she knows they carry the deepest and truest love of all deep inside.

whenever I look at you my thoughts are full of sensual poetry. But would I write about my feelings for you, my pen would begin to glow and my paper would immediately catch fire.

I never valued the meaning of words that much, Until I realized how healing they are.

I turned my scars into wisdom, and my past into lessons learnt.

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.

Show me your art and let me fall in love with it.

I feel that my environment reflects my belief in the grace and art and elegance of living simply.

Too many goodbyes. This girl has mastered the art of letting go.

My view is that I love what I make so who cares what everyone else thinks. Make art for yourself first, and other people second.

Politics is the art of the possible.

I always make music as an art – it’s never been a product for me.

You would be so proud of me, if you knew of all the ways i’ve turnt my pain into art.