“I will always be the one who made you into poetry.”

I don’t know who I am anymore. And maybe that’s okay. What if, this time I can be someone who doesn’t believe in love anymore.

The best thing we built together was our end.

Love me through your eyes and let your skin follow.

I could hear my heartbreak. And instead of screaming, I listened.

I must have been out of my mind to believe pain wouldn’t leave any scars.

Your words were cold. I felt them as they crashed through my bones.

You were never good at words. So I tried to learn silence.

This heaviness is too much for one soul.

I believe one of the most dangerous things in the world is living.

Despite the lack of colors, she was a work of art.

It is no longer skin that I wear. It is you.

My poetry breaks and cries. I think I really need to let you go this time.

The saddest song you’ll ever know is the one my heart plays for you.

You left me with nothing. But the gift to write the most beautiful sad poems.

My lonely soul drowns in empty bodies.

Nothing feels like home anymore. Even this heart of mine demands to be yours.

Poets, not otherwise than philosophers, painters, sculptors, and musicians, are, in one sense, the creators, and, in another, the creations, of their age.

If a poet is anybody, he is somebody to whom things made matter very little – somebody who is obsessed by Making.

Does a poet create, originate, initiate the thing called a poem, or is his behavior merely the product of his genetic and environmental histories?

If you have written really well, people will swear that it happened to you.

A poet is someone who is abnormally fond of that precision which creates movement. Which is to say the highest form of concentration possible: fascination; to report on the electrifying experience of being.

A poet is someone Who can pour Light into a spoon, Then raise it To nourish Your beautiful parched, holy mouth.

Sometimes I write so I can forget and sometimes I write so I won’t.

So I be written in the Book of Love. I do not care about that Book Above. Erase my name, or write it as you will. So I be written in the Book of Love.