“You can love the way you look but still hate the way you are.”

Hope is a drug that makes fear little quieter.

I asked you where you were my whole life and you told me that you were waiting for me.

There is no such thing as a summer body. Your beauty is not seasonal, it is perennial. Your body need not change for your skin to enjoy the sun.

A fraction of an ounce of kindness from you was enough for me to fall.

The eye of the storm is the stillest part. There is calm at the centre of a cyclone. There is hush in the middle of a hurricane. The window of joy we shared was the eye of our storm.

Each Act of kindness is a seat filled at your funeral, a tear dropped upon your death.

A problem shared is a problem divided. A tragedy shared is a tragedy multiplied.

You ask me what is love and I’ll tell you I know not. You ask me if I’ve loved and I’ll tell you I once did. You ask me how I know I’ve loved and I’ll tell you I just know.

You’ve changed. And for that I’m proud. My loyalty is to you always. Not just the person I met.

Lost in a conversation is something I can never feel with you. For I’ve never felt more found than when speaking to you.

I unravel my future as I weave it with my past.

Hundreds of thousands of years of evolutionary training forgotten when I expose that vulnerable flesh to you.

In an age so connected why do I feel so far apart?

When a mother asks for a second child her body forgets the pain of the first. When I give you a second chance my heart is being forgetful.

Show me an example of perfection and I will show you a lie.

Yours is the face I give to the voice in my head that reminds me of who I am.

I hate war as only a soldier who has lived it can, only as one who has seen its brutality, its futility, its stupidity.

I can no longer condemn or hate a brother for whom I pray, no matter how much trouble he causes me.

I have decorated your absence with every flower you hate. I end up hating em all.

The time you spend hating on someone robs you of your own time. You are literally hating on yourself and you don’t even realize it.

The world may be filled with hate, but keep erasing it now, somehow.

I have nobody in the world. I’ll kill myself. That’s best. Everyone will say, It’s for the best that she killed herself, she’s better off dead. I hate myself so much I could spend hours and hours just screaming with hatred and with the pain of it, oh the pain of it.

Children should neither be seen or heard from – ever again.

In terms of love, you’re not in control and I hate that feeling. I seem to write a lot of sad songs because I’m a very tragic person. But there’s always an element of humor at the end.