black
grey
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I thought you were a keeper, I wish I could have kept you.

Lang Leav

But tomorrow, tomorrow could be different, and that is what keeps me going today.
LANG LEAV

Belief Future Hope Myself
You are a writer bleeding words onto a page. And the ones who hate you will trample on that page. And the ones who love you will cut you, to keep you bleeding.
LANG LEAV

Blood Page Writing Yourself
It should be my right to mourn someone who has yet to leave this world but no longer wants to be part of mine.
LANG LEAV

Leave Mourn Myself Right World
And I sighed and wept for what could not be–and for all that could have been.
LANG LEAV

Cry Dream Future Myself Sadness
It is only the year that is ending. So why does it feel like the world is?
LANG LEAV

Ending Feeling Myself World
When in truth, it is the transparency that kills you. The pain of seeing through to something you can never quite touch.
LANG LEAV

Pain Quite Touch Transparent Truth Yourself
Be patient. Your voice will find its way into the world, not in one loud instance but a steady trickle that turns into a deluge.
LANG LEAV

Finding Patience Voice World Yourself
Our love story comes to me in waves, in movie stills and long summer afternoons spent under a sky of incessant blue. I still think of your eyes in flashes of color, your hands in a frenetic, feverish blur-your smile a mosaic of light and shadow. I still find myself lost in those moments of abstraction.
LANG LEAV

Abstraction Hands Light Love Moments Ourselves Shadow Wave
I don’t think all writers are sad, she said. I think it’s the other way around- all sad people write.
LANG LEAV

Deep Myself People Poet Sadness Thinking Writing
I missed you today. Between waking and sleeping, I thought of you.
LANG LEAV

I Miss You Myself Sleeping Thinking Wake Up
I know there is a terrible distance between us. But our bodies are made of stardust, and we are hurtling through space and time, toward the most beautiful collision.
LANG LEAV

Beautiful Body Collision Distance Hurt Known Myself Space Time
Sometimes the loneliest place to be is in love.
LANG LEAV

Lonely Love Place Time
I am already nostalgic for what we have, even with you still here.
LANG LEAV

Gratitude Myself Nostalgia Relationship Yourself
Somehow, there is a sense of comfort in knowing nothing will ever hit me quite as hard again. Nothing will ever be as beautiful, but neither will anything hurt as much.
LANG LEAV

Beautiful Comfortable Hurt Known Myself Willing
To never do the things I’ve done that once had led to my undoing.
LANG LEAV

Action Destruction Myself Work
Hands are no longer hands. They are caresses. Mouths are no longer mouths. They are kisses. My name is no longer a name, it is a call. And love is no longer love – love is you.
LANG LEAV

Call Hands Kiss Love Name Relationship Yourself

I thought you were a keeper, I wish I could have kept you.

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I thought you were a keeper, I wish I could have kept you.

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Popular Authors

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