Some people don’t even know, how precious they are. That they carry heart of gold inside their chest, and enchant us every day with their shining light.
DANIELA SENICKPain shapes us into writers, it cuts our veins open like a sharp knife. But while we are about to bleed dry, we turn our blood into ink.
More Daniela Senick Quotes
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We all deserve to find that one special person, who sees and feels the rarity of our souls.
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Seduce my mind find my soul before your hands touch me.
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Never mess with a poets heart for they know how to turn broken pieces in a written masterpiece of art.
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Whenever I look at you my thoughts are full of sensual poetry. But would I write about my feelings for you, my pen would begin to glow and my paper would immediately catch fire.
DANIELA SENICK -
I can feel you in every part of my body. I do not know how you do it, that you still linger deep inside of my veins bones DNA without even being beside me. But you do and I love that.
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Beneath every scar there lies a tragedy, that we try to heal through writing poetry.
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Never hold her back from the things she does, with passion in her heart and love in her soul.
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When I write poems about my feelings for you, it seems that even my words blush.
DANIELA SENICK -
I knew it was real love the moment I could bare myself to you naked (without taking my clothes off) and I could show you all my scars (the ones that are invisible to the naked eye) and you loved me even more.
DANIELA SENICK -
Healing is like dealing with the moods of the moon. Somedays you feel the pain at its fullest and you don’t know how to make it through it, and other days it feels a little bit more bearable.
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The most beautiful gift that a writer can receive is to know that the reader can feel the emotions in every word.
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LISTEN and SILENT have the same letters. It means, when someone is SILENT then LISTEN, for silence speaks volumes.
DANIELA SENICK -
She plucked a feather from her magnificent wings and dipped it in ink. She wrote poems bled from her scars guided straight from the depths of her heart.
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In the veins of poets flows ink, with which they create words for eternity. When they die a part of their souls will still stay alive in their poetry.
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Poetry has its own language which can only be understood, when you read it with your heart and feel it within your soul.
DANIELA SENICK