I like my soul when it touches yours; winter turns to summer and my nightmares become dreams.
NICOLE LYONSI breathe him in so deep that when he is gone I exhale and taste him again.
More Nicole Lyons Quotes
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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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Some souls were never meant to be content.
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He was all dangerous eyes and beautiful lies, but I ached. for him to lie to me some more.
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The tide has pulled the storm from my soul again. But in all that is right or wrong and pure, there is you, and your stunning ability to blur the lines and just be.
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How recklessly we turn from strangers and blindly back to lovers, to nothing.
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Moon child with your galaxy heart, cool your heels and stay awhile.
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There is no greater power than that of the sun, the moon, and a woman who knows her worth.
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Too many times I have given this heart away, I am afraid it is no longer mine.
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I still pick at these memories of you; I pick them until they bleed.
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The deepest pain I ever felt was denying my own feelings to make everyone else comfortable.
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Every now and then I roam the catacombs in my head and attempt to resurrect you, and make you shiny again.
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I swear if I were to rip myself open, it wouldn’t be blood that poured out of me, it would be him.
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Poetry is the loveliest art. It has a wretched way of revealing our own character when we think we are judging the poets.
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I drink to the ones that can sit with their souls and not wish for sleep and the nightmares it brings.
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Be bold, child. You are rare and you are brazen light.
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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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He was everything I never could, but always wanted to love.
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When I told you that I hadn’t been broken before; it wasn’t a fucking challenge.
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Every now and then even the sweetest souls burn it to the ground, just to remind the rest of them who exactly they are fucking with.
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He left love letters at my door, and a chalk outline on the highway.
NICOLE LYONS -
I will not force a pretty smile upon my face to please eyes that no longer see me.
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You love so perfectly, as if you have never been told a heart can be broken.
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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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She tasted like wildflowers; crushed, wet wild flowers carried in sticky palms through farmers’ fields, just before dawn.
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Sometimes love is nothing more than a sticky web; illusions spun, from clever minds and bitter hearts.
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I breathe him in so deep that when he is gone I exhale and taste him again.
NICOLE LYONS