Poetry is not a cure for sadness but it makes the pain bearable.
MONA-LISESteal back your heart – self-love.
More Mona-Lise Quotes
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Your ghost still haunts the empty halls of my soul.
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I’m laying bare still untouched by the hands I crave completely taken by words.
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I cannot tell if it is a blessing from an old god or lovely dark art only that he holds my heart.
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The art of harvesting pain – poetry.
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Her poetry – a sweet symphony of madness.
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And every time I care I die a little.
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And I vow to be your lasting dream if you follow me into the river.
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And then I understood you were never my rescue yet always my escape.
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I don’t mind his company but I wish he was you.
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Some girls dream of princes and castles others play with matches.
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Behind that gate of skin and bone dwells his soul and I’m not ready to move on.
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They saw her beaten and broken I saw the birth of a warrior.
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And you broke me in all the ways I loved you.
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I just want to lay in your arms dressed in nothing but love and moonlight.
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She’s a daughter of the healers in Salem and even tho her wings are scorched she still chooses to do good.
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