I have buried myself so deep in my words that sometimes I can’t tell if I am the person writing or the one hiding between the lines.
LANG LEAVI have buried myself so deep in my words that sometimes I can’t tell if I am the person writing or the one hiding between the lines.
LANG LEAVThe things that seem to matter less, are the ones we put on show.
LANG LEAVI know love because I am in love. Because of how long I’ve loved. Because of the man I love.
LANG LEAVWhy do you write? he asked. So I can take my love for you and give it to the world, I reply. Because you won’t take it from me.
LANG LEAVSome days I feel like my soul is being pulled in one direction and my heart in another.
LANG LEAVI look for you, the way I was taught to look both ways when crossing the road. Uptight and wary, bracing myself for something I know could break me.
LANG LEAVI don’t think about myself as much as I used to. I guess that’s a good thing. I only think about the things that are missing from me.
LANG LEAVLet her be herself. Or she will be somebody else’s.
LANG LEAVNow I know being close to you was never about the proximity.
LANG LEAVWhere are you?” She asked. “I have been searching all my life.” “Stop looking for me,” Love replied, “and I will find you.
LANG LEAVHere’s the story of my life. Hoping they would care about me or wishing they wouldn’t care so much.
LANG LEAVLoving you is like being ten years old again, scaling a tree with my eyes bright and skyward, wanting only to get higher and higher, without a thought of how I would get back down.
LANG LEAVHe gave her such gifts – not the kind that were put in boxes, but the sort that filled her with imagination, breathing indescribable happiness into her life.
LANG LEAVWhen in truth, it is the transparency that kills you. The pain of seeing through to something you can never quite touch.
LANG LEAVI missed you today. Between waking and sleeping, I thought of you.
LANG LEAVYou know, missing someone can sometimes be the best thing for a writer.
LANG LEAV