“She bleeds the life of golden rose from her lips whenever she kisses.”

You are all either a manifestation of my light or shadows.

The power of an interstellar self is vigorous, It has to be portioned out throughout the whole universe.

Kissing you from the neck down to… and kissing you is perilous because there is no end to you and I am scared I will never stop falling if I let myself fall in love with you.

I heard many tongues in many languages saying that people cannot be Gods, and that’s a given. But what if people don’t know what was given to them?

I am not from the Earth. I am from a place artist are obsessed with. A place where everything makes sense from the point of view of imagination, but not human intelligence.

When my body dies one day or the next, I drift away from it, merge with the air, and with a divine timing I travel back into another human form and continue to discover the life I am.

When the coarctation of mind replaces the latitude of heart, then life is a battlefield between gone and unborn. The war between things you cannot change and things you cannot touch.

I know a lot of people look up to the sky to talk to God, but not me. I am searching for my pieces in the blue ocean above the mountains.

Her lips have so many burns and scars, but they are still sugar-sweet.

Every birth has its significant lifetime miracles. We are supposed to forget all but we are also supposed to remember again. The veil of oblivion exists to make it more interesting to discover ourselves again.

You can meet me at local beach. I am waiting for you so that we can find ourselves together between the beach and Heaven.

When the sun goes down, sometimes I am psychotic, sometimes I am reckless, sometimes I am aggressive but when I talk to the moon about the life on Earth, I am forgiven because the night understands me.

We need to surrender ourselves to the water before we can climb the spiral ladder.

A wanderer who found beauty in a quiet jungle and went into a mysterious paradise in search of a treasure of silence in which the whole universe hides.

I want to talk with you about the love revolution and how the clouds above us turn pink every time I kiss you. I know where in my lucid dreams there is a door behind which there are all the abandoned dreams you can dream forever.

Earth is a place where we learn to fly in human form. We all gather here in the miraculous place where a tiny seed grows a flower with its own smell or a tree that casts shade onto the land of people.

A mind can bleed a heart to death.

I have tried so hard, to even bleed you out of me, and yet somehow you stand still.

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

My heart bleeds at the thought of being unable to live all the lives I have planned in my head.

Abstruse spite bleeds from their mouth. I hear the venom, It’s screaming so loud, And yet so benign Reaction, not roused Their “nasty”, so nice The beast lost its shroud.

All my trauma grown to thorns, he overlooked it all. Perhaps they caused him to bleed in ways I can’t recall.

I’ll allow for this pain to bleed from my pen onto the paper to relieve the pressure from my tortured mind.

Pain shapes us into writers, it cuts our veins open like a sharp knife. But while we are about to bleed dry, we turn our blood into ink.