“I managed to cut myself loose and while there was pain – there weren’t any blood.”

From opal mornings to indigo nights I think about you, all the time.

I want to kiss you so much it hurts and I want to caress your skin until it no longer does.

Autumn makes us pull up our feet and curl up with our hearts.

What a pure and intimate thing – to be reading the words of another.

You calm my soul and set it on fire at the same time.

I don’t even have to read between my own line, the poetry speaks so loud and a little too clear.

Brushing teeth swallowing held back tears, this is not how we are supposed to be.

You know what would be hot? To get loved before you get fucked.

Even pretty words turn into ash while pouring out of an ugly mouth.

I want to see you naked stripped bare yourself in front of me and then you can take your clothes off.

All these candles unlit perhaps they too need to breathe you.

She won’t settle for being just another girl on your feed you know.

What about us who would like a piece of the soul served as an aperitif before we dig into flesh?

I want to see our demons complement each other for the rest of our lives.

What if last time felt so beautiful simply because it actually was our last time?

I know my worth it shouldn’t have to slap me in the face though.

I know deep hurt. But I also know deep hope. Sometimes God’s power is shown as much in preventing things as it is in making them happen. We may never know why. But we can always know and trust the Who.

We have been given God in our souls and Christ in our flesh. We have the power to believe where others deny, to hope where others despair, to love where others hurt.

Life is so damned hard, so damned hard… It just hurts people and hurts people, until finally it hurts them so that they can’t be hurt ever any more. That’s the last and worst thing it does.

It’s a no win situation. It’s a mug’s game. The religions have contrived to make it impossible to disagree with them critically without being rude. They play the hurt feelings card at every opportunity.

Dishonesty of any kind will create a blemish.

Self-love means caring for ourselves enough to forgive people in our past so that the wounds can no longer damage us – for our wounds do not hurt the people who hurt us, they hurt only us.

I am hurting. I am angry. I am one hundred and thirty-two synonyms of regret, but atleast its proof that I was here.

I just do what I want to do without hurting other people and you know, I wish other people would do the same.