Faded secrets and old voices have built towns inside my heart. Thats were we still meet.
EMILY KURCWe all show our true colors eventually – mine is dark and firesome red. I bet I burned you. I don’t expect to see you soon.
More Emily Kurc Quotes
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I miss the sweat of september and the stickiness of the sheets.
EMILY KURC -
When the leaves begin to fall, I find myself returning to old playlists in hopes that I can feel you holding my hand, or kissing me goodnight, or hear you singing my name into songs and blueing when it makes no sense.
EMILY KURC -
I am still weighed down by unspeakable heaviness- It follows like shadow currents.
EMILY KURC -
The sun touched your skin with innocent delicacy as if you were a work of out that was made to be admired deeply.
EMILY KURC -
The future belongs to those who are brave enough to speak up about things that matter.
EMILY KURC -
Each night I sit at my windowsill like a wolf howling to the moon, hoping that somewhere you feel me calling to you.
EMILY KURC -
You don’t deserve my poetry. I hate that I give you that satisfaction still.
EMILY KURC -
Men like you were never meant for storms like us.
EMILY KURC -
I woke up this morning and for once, I had no desire to drink my morning coffee. Is that how it felt for you to wake up and never return?
EMILY KURC -
The sky was crying so I wiped away her tears, just like all the times she did the same me.
EMILY KURC -
Do ghosts get tired of haunting? Of chasing old flames in darkness, of walking through dreams casting shadows against walls, against hearts, do they feel themselves forgotten?
EMILY KURC -
Leave me like you mean it. My heart can’t keep waiting for you.
EMILY KURC -
I bet my words are still tangled beneath that streetlight fighting for the right combination to stay.
EMILY KURC -
A place where our stories are rewritten, and six degrees of separation no longer troubles us.
EMILY KURC -
Each time I fall back in love with myself, I leave my pen and paper behind. It isn’t personal, or maybe it is. I just a always thought that poetry was for the hurting.
EMILY KURC