“What I love the most about us is that we are fully committed to each other without losing ourselves.”

Her stories always ended with three dots, sounding like an unfinished melody; she hoped he would guess the rest.

Baby we are not getting older each day we live our new versions and the new has no age.

Whats there to remember we made the most memories remembering each other.

What is perfect love if not loving each others imperfections perfectly?

She was too much for you…Pouring her love onto you, she thought she would quench your thirst, but you drowned…She didn’t know your heart was just a shot glass and not a continent.

My words fly around you like the annoying flies that only exist to disturb the silence and bite sometimes. When did I become so small

The irony is that we had more intimacy when apart.

We used to play with barbies and when we grew up, we willingly became dolls in the hands of men, i guess we just miss our childhood games.

Don’t write about me I was never meant to be your poem.

Lets make memories on the fly instead of just dreaming.

The night is young we can keep talking till morning but lets change to the body language instead.

I became your melancholy your unfinished symphony its better to leave undone rather than knowing I did my best yet wasn’t enough.

Have the brave heart to dream so freely, that the memories of the future weight heavier than the ones from the past.

The way you rip off my clothes makes me feel like I am a gift, your gift that you can wait to unfold.

To all those who ever wished to hurt me, “ I am sorry that you broke when you hit me.”

Crystals melt under high temperature and I still wonder what kind of rock your heart was that my love couldn’t shrink it.

All the passions make us commit faults; love makes us commit the most ridiculous ones.

I always put myself out there. I’m not afraid to commit to something.

I’m committed to the fight game.

No sin which we are capable of committing has ever taken God by surprise for He knew we were just like that.

I’ll buy metaphor, but simile’s a cop-out used by scaredycats who won’t commit to anything. Simile’s for cowards.

My sense of humor keeps me from committing atrocities!

It leaves him free to commit the same deed over and over again, and may, indeed, win him the honors of a hero in the country of his victims.

My credibility is zero. My wife claims she can go before any judge at any time and have me committed.