You broke me into pieces, but I took those shards and built a mosaic. I’m stronger for the fall, and more beautiful than I could have ever been with you.
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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In the pale light of a setting sun – I’ll hold your hand and promise to love you more, on the days that you forget to love yourself.
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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 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 arms around me – and for the first time in years, I feel like I am home.
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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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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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Peace found me in a wordless embrace – in the rising of autumn sun, and the sound of turning pages.
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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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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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Your kisses fell on me like sand through an hourglass – a thousand tiny moments, for an eternity of stillness.
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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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Born in one country and raised in another – seperated by ocean, but tied in blood.
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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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Don’t waste your words on me, your face speaks in volumes that your breath could never reach.
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The leaves know when to let go – if only I had the same instinct.
M.K. STANDBY