“This heaviness is too much for one soul.”

I want to fall in love. But it’s not easy. Finding a soul like yours never is.

You can take my heart. But you should know, It’s not whole.

I wish it were easy. You know to be brave. And look at myself without quickly wanting to turn away.

I know loving you has consequences. In silence from a distance and alone.

I built bridges that never once led me back to you. I just didn’t realize you were the one breaking them.

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.

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.

Courage, ne’er by sorrow broken! Aid where tears of virtue flow; Faith to keep each promise spoken! Truth alike to friend and foe!

Wars spring from unseen and generally insignificant causes, the first outbreak being often but an explosion of anger.

I’ll always leave the same set of strings on my guitars when I’m recording. If I break one I’ll just replace it instead of putting on a whole new set of strings.

Jackson plays a broken guitar because he’s in love with it, and doesn’t want to fix it, I think. It’s so broken.

If only the journey back could bring me to you.

All I have are the memories and all they do is haunt me.

I hope this pain never eases and these wounds never heal. That’s how you keep lingering in scars, underneath my skin.

The partition separating life from death is so tenuous. The unbelievable fragility of our organism suggests a vision on a screen: a kind of mist condenses itself into a human shape, lasts a moment and scatters.