“I don’t know if you are the water or light. Only that you can flood a room.”

You were an ocean and I never did learn to breathe underwater.

I didn’t believe in forever. But I did believe in you.

What if love just isn’t enough.

I can’t imagine a universe where she is anything other than a masterpiece.

Maybe the universe breaks people in different ways so they fit when they are together.

What a terrifying thing it is to heal.

The embers of us no longer keep me warm. But they still set fire to everything they touch.

Some days, all of it aches with beauty.  Others, it all just aches with you.

To survive is to drag yourself from the water and forget what it is to swallow salt.

Please don’t let me sleep. I’ll only dream of her.

You are more than the things that have hurt you.

Of course, you don’t know how to love me. I’ve never known how to do that, either.

She lost herself, a little, in that darkness but returned with stars beneath her skin.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s just that I don’t want to.

I miss you. By which I mean I’m jealous of the soil that gets to hold your bones.

These days my bones are shifting, trembled things. I am more earthquake than anything.

Love is a trap. When it appears, we see only its light, not its shadows.

Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.

Pointing to another world will never stop vice among us; shedding light over this world can alone help us.

I saw myself in a different light.

The idea came like a flash of lightning and in an instant the truth was revealed.

Knowledge is love and light and vision.

We all know that light travels faster than sound. That’s why certain people appear bright until you hear them speak.

Your wide eyes are the only light I know from extinguished constellations.