“I have touched you in dreams, wishing to kiss you on the other side of it.”

Despite all of your mistakes, I stayed – and that was mine.

What you’re trying to control is already controlling you.

When did our love become a war we had to fight to keep?

I wonder how often the world reminds you of me, because it won’t let me forget you.

When you have all this love to give but you’re not the one they want to be loved by.

The more I spoke of it, the faster it slipped away from me.

Love me hard or leave me, quickly.

A kiss in a dream, so vivid, it is mistaken for a memory.

If people are their deepest thoughts and darkest secrets, I’m convinced that no one really knows anybody.

I love you, selflessly. From afar, through tears, and in my loneliness.

They might even love you back but that doesn’t mean that you’re meant to be together.

If I wasn’t worthy of explanation, you aren’t worth being remembered.

Note to self: stop being so soft, remember what he did and move along.

His laugh sounds an awful lot like my happiness.

Drank about you last night, hungover you this morning.

I’m a romantic and that’s the tragedy.

If a poet has a dream, it is not of becoming famous, but of being believed.

War is an ill thing, as I surely know. But ‘twould be an ill world for weaponless dreamers if evil men were not now and then slain.

I’m really living my dream so if I were to change anything up, I probably wouldn’t be where I am.

It was then that the ecstasy and the dream began, in which emotion was the matter of the universe, and matter but an adventitious intrusion likely to hinder you from spinning where you wanted to spin.

We both chased our dreams and our dreams chased us. Yet we forgot to chase each other.

A friend told me that teenage girls are always looking for someone to pin their dreams on. That doesn’t make it any less weird though.

If I’m gonna be stuck inside might as well keep it dreamy.

The scent of rain is just as much as an illusion as your love.