“The only fire that was left in us, was the one I never lit up within myself.”

I guess that is why no one would ever forget you. Because you carried the weight of your pain along with others.

Your voice sends vibrations through my ears, as the frequency of each word that falls from your lips, tracing every bone of my spine, making me weak.

Love never failed you, people did.

The parts of me you are afraid of, are the parts that are ready to be loved by you.

The blessings feel different when there is love and peace in your heart.

I don’t want to live here, you frame memories I don’t want to remember, and gather your dust on memories I want hold on to.

We fail ourselves in many ways by hoping and praying for people to change, but little do we know the more rely on others, our growth delays.

Let them walk away. They will grasp for air, because of your absence, and because you were already ten steps ahead of them.

Conserving my energy for those who take their time, to find the light in me.

Place your hand over your heart, and tell yourself that love lives here and healing lives here. And pain is no longer welcome here.

So may you love my roots and my thorns, just as much as you love the rose that I am —but don’t pick on my petals.

Treat her like a dream. Follow her, pursue her, and always remind her that you’ll never give up on her.

It’s okay to fear the things you can’t control, but let go of what you can no longer hold.

My arms spread like wings to your side of the bed, as I close my eyes. The sound of the rain, like music to my ears, my body sinks deep into my sheets. As I fall asleep with my heart in peace.

No matter how often we draw the lines, we will cross them – my favorite type of art.

Do not look for me if you haven’t found yourself first.

Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight, And burned is Apollo’s laurel bough, That sometime grew within this learned man. Faustus is gone.

Tear me apart cut open my flesh, until I bleed out just like the rest of the mess.

Give me unexpected whether it is good or bad, I learn from it all. As you build or break me in the end, I will stand tall.

I’m a drunk poet; and I guess maybe I sipped too much of what I couldn’t buy of her.

Love with your mouth shut, help without breaking your ass or publicizing it: keep cool, but care.

People leave because staying requires effort.

The broken worlds we hide inside; that’s how we start to die!

I can feel the dust of her skin in my skin; and I think maybe that means these bones of mine have grown weary of crying too.