“I will rise like a phoenix from the ashes of the bridges I burned.”

Its the little things that make life worthwhile, like when he looks at me with that innocent smile.

Flashes of your touch race through my mind even when I’m with other guys.

There are so many beautiful parts of me but your eyes were too out of focus to notice.

He and I were like water and oil, We could co-exist, but never quite mixed.

I was blinded by the desire to be wanted that I forgot how to love myself.

I never thought the victim would be me yet there I was paralyzed and struggling to set myself free. It took every fibre in my being to walk away and let it be.

Grief sits uncomfortably until it seeps under your skin, so you no longer feel weighed down by it but still feel its subtle presence.

Maybe those who hurt me in the past were not all monsters, but rather kindred spirits who got lost along the way.

I’m drawn to you like a moth to a flame, its no wonder I can’t resist every time you say my name.

I pushed you away like the ocean does to the tides, but we always come back together whether it rains or shines.

Please don’t make me feel special or worthy of your time, If you’re just going to feed other girls those same sweet lines.

He took the pieces of my broken heart and turned them into a mosaic for his own viewing pleasure.

I’ll admit I’m not perfect I’m like an angel fallen from grace. I’ve been a sinner and a saint.

I can barely hold a melodic tune but I’ll still sing love songs all about you.

Your lips were soft and tender, warm like september. Every moment spent with you made me feel wild and brand new.

I had shed my old skin so I could make room to grow into myself again.

The teaching must not only consume you, but consume itself as well. All must be burned to ash, and then the ash must be burned. Then, and only then, is the Ultimate realized.

You could move.’ —“Dear Abby” responds to a reader who complained that a gay couple was moving in across the street and wanted to know what he could do to improve the quality of the neighborhood.

Fighting fire with fire only gets you ashes!

Ash, I want you. Bad, very very bad. But you deserve better than this

Glory comes too late when we are nought but ashes.

But Ash, I can’t continue to want you from a distance. To love you and not have you. I’d end up in jail if anyone tried to touch you and God forbid you tried to date someone.

Is there a chance? A fragment of light at the end of the tunnel? A reason to fight? Is there a chance you may change your mind? Or are we ashes and wine?

Never shall I forget those moments that murdered my God and my soul and turned my dreams to ashes.