“Violet is the color of the deepest dreams the synonym of too much love. Violet is the pain we willingly let in and the promises we’ll never break.”

I have felt so much on my own I need a serious reason to let you in.

When the chaos creates comfort, and pain stops hurting your head, when you learn and accept the whole world, You know you possess yourself.

She was a strong and smart woman and could repair even a leaking sink and a broken TV. Doing everything on her own, still she always let him pull down her zipper…

Her stories always ended with three dots, sounding like an unfinished melody; she hoped he would guess the rest.

Baby we are not getting older each day we live our new versions and the new has no age.

Whats there to remember we made the most memories remembering each other.

What is perfect love if not loving each others imperfections perfectly?

She was too much for you…Pouring her love onto you, she thought she would quench your thirst, but you drowned…She didn’t know your heart was just a shot glass and not a continent.

My words fly around you like the annoying flies that only exist to disturb the silence and bite sometimes. When did I become so small

The irony is that we had more intimacy when apart.

What I love the most about us is that we are fully committed to each other without losing ourselves.

We used to play with barbies and when we grew up, we willingly became dolls in the hands of men, i guess we just miss our childhood games.

Don’t write about me I was never meant to be your poem.

Lets make memories on the fly instead of just dreaming.

The night is young we can keep talking till morning but lets change to the body language instead.

I became your melancholy your unfinished symphony its better to leave undone rather than knowing I did my best yet wasn’t enough.