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It was the year you learned that shooting stars were either a blessing or a curse, depending on what you wanted to believe.

Lang Leav

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
I’m a stranger in my own life.
LANG LEAV

Life Myself Stranger
Strange how it mattered so much, when now it matters so little.
LANG LEAV

Important Strange Value
If you love me for what you see, only your eyes would be in love with me.
LANG LEAV

Eyes Love Myself See Yourself
Whatever path you choose will take you to the same destination. The only thing that should guide you is your intuition.
LANG LEAV

Choice Destination Guide Intuition Path Yourself
How do I thank my mother for giving me the life she desperately wanted to give herself.
LANG LEAV

Desperate Herself Life Mom Thankful
When two souls fall in love, there is nothing else but the yearning to be close to the other. The presence that is felt through a hand held, a voice heard, or a smile seen.
LANG LEAV

Fall In Love Feeling Hands Presence Smile Soul Voice
Souls do not have calendars or clocks, nor do they understand the notion of time or distance. They only know it feels right to know one other.
LANG LEAV

Calendar Clock Distance Feeling Known Soul Time Togetherness
Have you ever loved a rose, and bled against her thorns; and swear each night to let her go, then love her more by dawn.
LANG LEAV

Herself Let Go Love Morning
If you have to be with someone at all, then be with someone who makes you feel like you are still in control.
LANG LEAV

Control Feeling Togetherness Yourself
To love is a dare, when hope and despair, are gates upon it hinges.
LANG LEAV

Dare Despair Gate Hope Love
Sometimes I am caught between poetry and prose, like two lovers I can’t decide between. Prose says to me, let’s build something long and lasting. Poetry takes me by the hand, and whispers, come with me, let’s get lost for awhile.
LANG LEAV

Hands Lost Lover Myself Poetry
I was there in your forgetting, until I was forgot.
LANG LEAV

Forgetting Myself
It was a question I had worn on my lips for days – like a loose thread on my favourite sweater I couldn’t resist pulling – despite knowing it could all unravel around me. “Do you love me, I ask?” In your hesitation I found my answer.
LANG LEAV

Finding Hesitate Lips Love Myself Question Sweater
I learned that writing is the consolation prize you are given when you don’t get the thing you want the most.
LANG LEAV

Award Heart Broken Learning Myself Prize Writing Yourself
And I told him, if I am so hard to love, then let me run wild.
LANG LEAV

Hard Love Myself Run Wild

It was the year you learned that shooting stars were either a blessing or a curse, depending on what you wanted to believe.

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It was the year you learned that shooting stars were either a blessing or a curse, depending on what you wanted to believe.

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Popular Authors

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