“If you wish to read the story of my people look no further than my body.”

I remember when I was the only sin you liked to kiss.

I loved each and every one of your faces.

Tear me open and rest inside me.

Here I am, a mosaic of becomings.

I am a child of borderlines and we are two lands, carved differently.

For once I want to be something that lasts.

I’m sorry only I can both drown you and be the summer that dries it away.

This foundation can only take the beating of one heart.

When you kissed me you breathed air into my lifeless soul.

I am unbearably human.

The most beautiful parts of your body are those you had to grow again.

Somewhere in these walls we’re still dancing, feeling nostalgic and much too in my head.

Depression is the way my eyes have learnt how to close more than open.

I’ve got nothing left to give but I keep digging deeper.

Read the scars on my body like braille, for I no longer know how to tell a story that belongs deeply to me but is no longer mine.

Living is not living when I am living without you.

It is reasonable that forces directed toward bodies depend on the nature and the quantity of matter of such bodies, as happens in the case of magnetic bodies.

Love is a war of lightning, and two bodies ruined by a single sweetness.

A house is not a home unless it contains food and fire for the mind as well as the body.

Mr. Bean is essentially a child trapped in the body of a man. All cultures identify with children in a similar way, so he has this bizarre global outreach.

My body is my journal, and my tattoos are my story.

The truth is that we can learn to condition our minds, bodies, and emotions to link pain or pleasure to whatever we choose. By changing what we link pain and pleasure to, we will instantly change our behaviors.

It is very unfair to judge any body’s conduct, without an intimate knowledge of their situation.

Everybody needs beauty, places to play in and pray in where nature may heal and cheer and give strength to the body and soul alike.