“Oh my darling, you mustn’t fill up on memories alone, there is heartache and regret yet to be served.”

On paper I have killed you a thousand times but my heart disregards clever words.

He left love letters at my door, and a chalk outline on the highway.

How recklessly we turn from strangers and blindly back to lovers, to nothing.

He was all dangerous eyes and beautiful lies, but I ached. for him to lie to me some more.

Some souls were never meant to be content.

I like you here, between commas, where the only thing you can break now, is my lines.

He was everything I never could, but always wanted to love.

You love so perfectly, as if you have never been told a heart can be broken.

I still pick at these memories of you; I pick them until they bleed.

The deepest pain I ever felt was denying my own feelings to make everyone else comfortable.

You can’t tame a girl who has her head. In the clouds and one foot out the door.

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.

Pleasure or pain; I’ll take either as long as it is laced with passion.

I could lose myself in you or die blissfully, trying.

I drink to the ones that can sit with their souls and not wish for sleep and the nightmares it brings.

I swear if I were to rip myself open, it wouldn’t be blood that poured out of me, it would be him.

But the act of holding on speaks to me so much more about a human heart than the courage of letting go ever could.

Even the moon adore the way your brave heart beats.

The only mistake about love is that life can’t remember it and the heart won’t find it.

My soul will forever be a home for your heart in a world of temporary love.

Don’t let the scars on your heart define the way you love.

Love is like a wild rose; the thorns will only make your heart bleed if you touch it without care.

The edges of our heart hold the most beautiful memories.

Sometimes truth is a kind of love not many hearts can bear.