“What a miracle it is, that she never strayed from that light, that she always knew she would reach.”

I want to exist in the same world where you just want to exist in mine.

She was someone who still believed that she could love with a shattered heart, and that made her remarkable.

I closed a lot of doors, that used to be wide open. Bolted them shut so you couldn’t break them down again.

When you’re with her, I know you wish it was me. When I’m with him, he’s all I see.

When you’d hurt, I’d rush to your side. When I’d hurt, you’d hide.

The beautiful yet chaotic irony of it all is that; because of you, I lost myself, and yet, because of you, I found myself.

And I’m just trying to find someone worthy enough to set my heart on fire.

And some days, all she needs is to lay beneath the crescent moon and let the earth hold her.

It was then, sitting there, that I looked over him, and realized there was more.

Sometimes, the only hand you need to hold, is your own.

He admired the way I loved. Because I still gave everything that I had, even when I was left with nothing.

Love today. Gone tomorrow. Now you pass each other like strangers on a busy street.

The only thing setting her off, are the fireworks he put inside of her soul.

She left this world with so many unanswered questions. But returned with an open heart.

If only he would look at me. Look at me the way I look at poetry.

These walls are so high, but I refuse to be a prisoner of my past.

Contrary to the general belief about photography, you don’t need bright sunlight: the best moodiest pictures are taken in the dim light of almost dusk, or of rainy days.

You’ve got the kind of soul that leaves my heart open overflowing with the light you bring.

To the untrue man, the whole universe is false- it is impalpable- it shrinks to nothing within his grasp. And he himself is in so far as he shows himself in a false light, becomes a shadow, or, indeed, ceases to exist.

In the absence of you I look to the moon and pray that the stars light my way, too.

Let us no more contend, nor blame each other, blamed enough elsewhere, but strive, In offices of love, how we may lighten each other’s burden.

When I could not see the light with my blind eyes, I blamed not my eyes, but the sun.

Long is the way and hard, that out of hell leads up to light.

I fall headlong into everything that lights me on fire. I know not of restraint. I was born to burn.