“Understand my soul – it’s the only love language I care for you to know.”

I kiss the skies, set the sun in my eyes and swallow up the streams. I swear to god, I only feel alive in my most ludricious dreams.

Words have taken hostage of my tongue. All the things I’m too afraid to say collect like volcanic ash in my lungs. Vulnerabilities bleed on paper but leave my mouth – never.

I write to feel closer to you.

All my friends tell me I need to pull through. But I can’t for I am lost in the sea of you.

I get so lost in your midnight eyes I forget we’re running out of time.

Lost in the space between friend and lover. I am and none of these things.

Your presence is poetic, mysterious and deep. If you don’t mind I’d like to read you; uncover the dirty secrets hidden within your pages and fill that missing space between your sheets.

I long for connection but speak only with your reflection.

I was on fire. You didn’t even hesitate stepping into the flames. After tonight I am certain all the neighbors know your name.

You want to taste my ruby lips but fear they’ll leave a mark. Loving you is trespassing, forbidden access to an insecure heart.

You are the thunderstorm warning and I’m dancing in acid rain.

The night is wine and we’re the stars.

How can I be soft when tough love is all I ever known?

I’ve got the midnight blues in the middle of the afternoon – the side effects of missing you.

If love is rain ours is always pouring.

Everyone chases fairytales and magic until love becomes an illusion.

You shouldn’t feel unsafe walking to school. It’s where you should feel safe. Our parents should feel their children are going to be taken care of, looked after.

If you listen carefully enough to anything, it will talk to you.

Reading about nature is fine, but if a person walks in the woods and listens carefully, he can learn more than what is in books, for they speak with the voice of God.

Who would ever care to do brave deed, Or strive in virtue others to excel, If none should yield him his deserved meed Due praise, that is the spur of doing well? For if good were not praised more than ill, None would choose goodness of his own free will.

If I had been married earlier in life, I wouldn’t have seen the double helix. I would have been taking care of the kids on Saturday. On the other hand, I was lonely a lot of the time.

News is what a chap who doesn’t care much about anything wants to read.

You know, with Hitler, the more I learn about that guy, the more I don’t care for him.

I have observed dreams and visions very carefully, and am now certain that the imagination has some way of lighting on the truth that the reason has not, and that its commandments, delivered when the body is still and the reason silent, are the most binding we can ever know.