Lies sound so sweet when they are wrapped in velvet, a luxurious deception that charms my restless spirit – and I’m forever taken by beautiful things.
M.K. STANDBYThe knot in a grain of wood, a frost covering sodden grass. Mornings warmed by the rising sun and brewing coffee – the vision of the poet.
More M.K. Standby Quotes
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And in the end when the money is gone – will you still stay it was worth it.
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Maybe this time I choose ignorance, because giving began to feel like losing – repairing a house from rubble, and making sandcastles with the ash.
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Words hold little scope, for a love that stretches far beyond the limitations of language.
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Scribbled lines and crumpled pages – piles of rejection and resurrection. There will never be the right words to amend a lost goodbye.
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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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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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It started the way it always does. A broken heart, and a blank page.
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Leaves dance on twisted arms, swaying on the breeze as though choreographed by unseen hands. Even the faithless could find themselves converts, by the smell of dampened earth and its blossoming rose.
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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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It spills from my fingers faster than ink can flow – feelings too strong to contain, emotions that demand to be felt.
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I see the way that he is with you – holding your heart with softness he never spared for mine.
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You are a mirage – never mine to hold. A glimering promise so tempting to chase, eternally out of reach.
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I fill the shadow of the girl you want, a placeholder to the one I know you’d rather – I’ll do for now, but not forever.
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I feel like I’m on fire, fighting for a moment on respite – I’m not placing bets.
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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.
M.K. STANDBY






