I’m scared of mediocrity, of scribing my soul on fading pages, each destined to the fate that met those before it – gently laid to rest in a growing pile of unwanted words.
M.K. STANDBYBuilding a fire from a ash, what did I expect?
More M.K. Standby Quotes
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In the end it’s all the same – the hearty fire or the damp earth. I pray I’m not alone.
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I read that good things take time – but one look at him, and I knew I could never love someone more.
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Hollow intent and echoes affection, a call with no response. Who could trust a dormant heart – where apathy is shaped like love?
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Building a fire from a ash, what did I expect?
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My throat burns with the words left unspoken, air hangs still and silence hides the words you long to hear – stay.
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Your kisses fell on me like sand through an hourglass – a thousand tiny moments, for an eternity of stillness.
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Spirits dance on a velvet night, the sky it’s deepest black. In restless sleep and twisted dreams, they find themselves alive.
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My thoughts feel like plagiarism – a feeling already felt, the words already written.
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The leaves know when to let go – if only I had the same instinct.
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We didn’t know it was simpler, did we? Those days of sunburnt youth and carefree adventure. Knowing that indestructible optimism would waver with experience – would I have gripped it a little tighter? Held on a little longer?
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The smell of oak reminds me of summers spent sleeping under canvas, crackling fires and roasted coffee, the soft sound of guitar and voices in unison.
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And in the end-you didn’t deserve my thoughts or my ink.
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What use is sleep, when reality is more beautiful than my dreams could ever muster?
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Born in one country and raised in another – seperated by ocean, but tied in blood.
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14 days, but I can’t change my sheets. Your scents still marks my pillow – and its all that I have left.
M.K. STANDBY