“Kill me, or you are a murderer.”

I am a cage, in search of a bird.

Sleep is the most innocent creature there is and a sleepless man the most guilty.

This tremendous world I have inside of me. How to free myself, and this world, without tearing myself to pieces. And rather tear myself to a thousand pieces than be buried with this world within me.

In a way, you are poetry material; You are full of cloudy subtleties I am willing to spend a lifetime figuring out. Words burst in your essence and you carry their dust in the pores of your ethereal individuality.

The right understanding of any matter and a misunderstanding of the same matter do not wholly exclude each other.

A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us.

You are at once both the quiet and the confusion of my heart.

The person I am in the company of my sisters has been entirely different from the person I am in the company of other people. Fearless, powerful, surprising, moved as I otherwise am only when I write.

I am in chains. Don’t touch my chains.

I am dirty, Milena, endlessly dirty, that is why I make such a fuss about cleanliness. None sing as purely as those in deepest hell; it is their singing we take for the singing of angels.

I need solitude for my writing; not ‘like a hermit’ – that wouldn’t be enough – but like a dead man.

It’s only because of their stupidity that they’re able to be so sure of themselves.

There is an infinite amount of hope in the universe, but not for us.

The limited circle is pure.

All language is but a poor translation.

So eager are our people to obliterate the present.

Because I have seen a rare kind of peace in the eyes of loners. Because I have heard whispers of battles of the accompanied.

God is not only true, but Truth itself.

Falling for superficial costs depth its entire existence.

Is it a loss that is still present? Or a presence that seems to be lost?

Deep down, I reckon the sweetest moment will come when it’s finally all over. When, at last, I know that I can stop fighting. Of course it’ll also be a little sad. The sweetest moments, y’know, always come with just a little sadness.

Overcoming guilt, its the first step to doing it again.

Empty boxes pleading empty boxes to fill them with peace and love.

I found my old diary tonight. A brokenness I had forgotten pen pressured so deep it punctured page. I ran my fingers over my words and there inside ridges black I found a little girl desperate for someone to save her, desperate for the very woman I have become.