“I feel blurry as a reflection in water.”

It’s not songs that remind me of lost lovers. It’s poems.

With each daydream she weaved her pastel heart into the sky.

Spring is poetry poured into nature.

I dreamed in skies of blue before september stole all the light.

She loves her lonely moments the silence away from the crowds, when its just her daydreaming.

Her afternoon tea is a fountain of daydreams.

Night time thoughts lead nowhere but into melancholy.

Lets breath magic into each other.

In a world of lost souls how could I ever find a home?

Summer left me like an almost lover.

If I make him my home, will I lose the home inside myself?

Every drop of her gin held a lost world of night sky dances.

Kiss the words from my lips like a love poem.

One thing that makes me prefer people over books is shared laughter.

The way she danced through life was poetry.

We fell in love because we were both summer souls.

It’s funny how some people can make you feel alone and be right next to you. While others can be thousands of miles away and still make you feel connected.

I am okay if your love doesn’t make me feel the world to me it makes me feel myself and that’s beyond everything. – Recognization

My heart goes out to all black people who have been mistreated and feeling like this their entire lives.

The more I write about us, the more our love feels like art.

I wonder if one day I will ever feel as though I am not hard to love.

We can not all love in the same way – for the feeling would be called ordinariness instead. And of that, the world has too much already.

Our only consolation, as we feel our strength failing us, is to feel that we may help those who come after us to do more and to do better than ourselves.

An eternity caught within a feeling is called love.