I read that good things take time – but one look at him, and I knew I could never love someone more.
M.K. STANDBYI’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.
More M.K. Standby Quotes
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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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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.
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My thoughts feel like plagiarism – a feeling already felt, the words already written.
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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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Just tell me that it won’t be the same- that one day I won’t look at you, and only see a stranger.
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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 rain reminds me of his voice, a perfectly composed melody in the sky. Each drop that falls against my window, a dedication to the oceans I would cross – just to sit beside him.
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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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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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14 days, but I can’t change my sheets. Your scents still marks my pillow – and its all that I have left.
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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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Don’t give your heart to a poet – we see stories in a sentence and haunt you with our ink.
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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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Born in one country and raised in another – seperated by ocean, but tied in blood.
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A collection of thoughts bundled together and bound in twine – more toxic than any chemical, my very own poison.
M.K. STANDBY