“I don’t look for trouble. I just get lucky.”

If you allowed it, I’d break all the rules.

A kind heart and a smile that gets her in and out of trouble.

Let’s make the world wait while we write poetry and talk about love.

How perfectly you love my imperfection.

Give me an old bookshop, rain, and memories of you.

We’re just friends. It’s as complicated as that.

We were supposed to be, even if we can’t be.

You will always be my favorite story to tell.

Every letter of every poem is one more moment with you.

Because a broken heart still beats.

Have you heard the rumors about us? I kind of love them.

You introduced me to secrets.

What a magical spell those stars cast, making us believe we were written for them.

I have nothing to say and I can’t help but think that says a lot.

I prefer daydreams to those at night. It’s more fun to use my hands.

Sure, we could have kept going, but the chance of finding a gas station was zero.

The little island seemed to float on the dark lake-waters. Trees grew on it, and a little hill rose in the middle of it. It was a mysterious island, lonely and beautiful.

The century of people helplessly seeing others, who were close to them, disappear over the horizon.

I see myself as an entertainer.

Seeing someone reading something I wrote on an airplane – things like that are pretty awesome.

I nibbled my lower lip. “if you could see into my past just by touching my back, you’d have a hard time resisting the temptation too.” “i have a hard time keeping my hands off you without that added bonus.

I see the way that he is with you – holding your heart with softness he never spared for mine.

I don’t see myself as a diva at all.

When I look at you girl, I see a true work of art. So many beautiful things coming in one little heart.