“We lock away our secrets and push them deep down so they feel farther away but they will always be inside us, no matter how well we hide the key.”

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.

Piece by piece we rebuild the moon each night.

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.

There is two things everybody got to find out for themselves. They got to find out about love and they got to find out about living.

There are years that ask questions and years that answer.

Love is most nearly itself When here and now cease to matter.

Love is the force that leaves you colorless.

The chain of friendship, however bright, does not stand the attrition of constant close contact.

True security lies not in the things one has, but in the things one can do without.

There’s no vocabulary For love within a family, love that’s lived in But not looked at, love within the light of which All else is seen, the love within which All other love finds speech. This love is silent.

The tigers of wrath are wiser than the horses of instruction.