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And now I wander. Forever searching for the pieces of me I should have never given away.

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I think I saw you again in the moonlight tonight, and I swear I could taste the hints of it alll.
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Light Moon Myself Taste Thinking Yourself
Melancholy- My longest of lost lovers has returned to dance with me Again I loved him; intensely.
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I like my soul when it touches yours; winter turns to summer and my nightmares become dreams.
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And that is the nature of us poets and whores, to make things hard: dicks, choices, life.
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You load your words as I bare my chest, and this will be the most beautiful death.
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I like you here, between commas, where the only thing you can break now, is my lines.
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I write because suicide is no longer an option.
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Death Myself Option Suicide Writing
If I had known our last kiss was to be our last kiss, I would have kissed you as if it was our first.
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She is love, and a little fucking unstoppable.
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I promised to touch your soul. I never said it would be painless.
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He was exactly like hitting a red light during a killer streak of green.
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Himself Kill Light
He calms my chaos and I fuel his fire. We are a match made between heaven and hell.
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I drink to the ones who can sit with their souls and not wish for sleep and the nightmares it brings.
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Whatever it is that stirs your soul listen to that. Everything else is just noise.
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You can fan the flames with hate or stroke the fire with love, either way, it’s going to burn.
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I think you were my taste of heaven after a lifetime of eating hell.
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