And all this aching memories of you are floating through my burning veins; letting my scars glow in a dark blue reflecting the colour of your weary eyes.
LAURA CHOUETTESometimes I only fall in love with the moment itself not the people or places in it.
More Laura Chouette Quotes
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Love is like a wild rose; the thorns will only make your heart bleed if you touch it without care.
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The only mistake about love is that life can’t remember it and the heart won’t find it.
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To know why you fell in love will never bring you back up.
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Poetry is a silent revolution.
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The more I write about us, the more our love feels like art.
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Sometimes scars run deeper than wounds ever did.
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Don’t let the scars on your heart define the way you love.
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We made a home for our wishes in the stars; while forgetting they were meant to be only the beginning.
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Simple things are the most difficult ones; they enquire much more than one thought of ordinariness.
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Mistakes are flowers of change.
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Your absence in my heart has taught me how to find my own way finally.
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How short the happy moments seem and how endless the sad ones.
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Hope is like that pale orange fight shimmering on the horizon in this early morning hours, And like the stars in the lonely night sky with no place to go when dusk falls.
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Somewhere between the stars there is a place for me and you; Where the moon kisses the horizon and the darkness fades away.
LAURA CHOUETTE -
To set free my ideas while the world was still building a cage was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.
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The greatest form of art is unconditional love.
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We feel so much and remember so little.
LAURA CHOUETTE -
And the darkness felt suddenly like home again. Like a familiar place in the shadows where we used to meet.
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The past is an empty battleground.
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How will you ever be able to heal your broken parts, if you keep allowing the past to stay?
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An eternity caught within a feeling is called love.
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I broke my own heart, hoping that you would find parts of me that you could love.
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The dark silhouette of a forgotten rose in a forbidden garden of love; what kind of delicate fragrance of forgiveness it seems to tell my heart about.
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We break ourselves to fit better into all the wrong hearts.
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My love is like a lonely light wandering through the darkness searching for a home.
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Maybe we become what we write about.
LAURA CHOUETTE