“I write from my heart, perhaps that’s why my words often bleed.”

Regret is a time travel in a world where time only moves forward.

Can I write you into existence?

He is a friend. A different kind of lover.

The ‘almost’ kinda love never makes it.

Silence is the best storyteller.

I am a wildflower disguised as a flame. It’ll be fun to watch you underestimate me.

When you least expect it, death creeps in and reminds you of life.

Love, let go you’re holding on to things you no longer know – release.

Love yourself, first.

Teach me how to forgive cause I can’t seem to forget.

Missing you like you no longer exist.

The dream is to have the world know what it’s like to love and be loved.

They push you away and say you’ve changed.

The moon reminds me of how beautiful darkness is.

Touch me in all the right places but one: heart.

Nothing screams undress me like the scent of you on me.

Mental pain is less dramatic than physical pain, but it is more common and also more hard to bear.

You who suffer because you love, love still more. To die of love, is to live by it.

Absence may or may not make the heart grow fonder, but it certainly freshens the eye.

Fixing your heartbreak by getting into another relationship is not the way to live your life – you need to live it on your terms for a while.

I’m with a crowd but so alone.

The God of all consolation, who heals the broken hearts and takes care of the wounds, hear our prayer:

Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people.

Our mind is enriched by what we receive, our heart by what we give.