“Please the night’s cold, not her name again!”

No one thing stays the same after a goodbye.

What if love has always been the quench and the fire? or perhaps all we need to lose to find all we need to have?

Just as it demands blood, to meet bone, It’ll forever take something painful to understand pain.

I swear I love her so much that somedays I can’t quite tell if I’m just a good liar.

You’re gone. And I think I’m only trying to mean a lot to myself too.

To heal is to be constantly reminded that once you learn to punch, you die with blood on your wrist.

There’s a constant battle of me and healing; all of which still sits burning and intricately perplexed in ink.

Either the jump or the drown, loving her has always readied me for the fire.

If ever the fall is the ground, someone tell her I’m this close to soil, and I can feel it!

These sharp edges you left behind, they cut so deep; and I guess maybe I am just not dying enough.

Breathe in the pain and bring out the wounds. It’s only a process and you’ll learn to survive the rest.

Give everything some time; pain hasn’t learn to walk yet.

Somedays depression is tender, as though hurting is just an art; and that maybe she didn’t break me more than enough!

Like a fractured bone in the ribs, the heart can be painfully heavy sometimes.

Perhaps I mistook the pain with work in progress.

When I say I love you, I mean something raw something below the surface of all waters; something almost too naked and true!

Oh, you fool. You turned cold and stopped loving when the world needed it most.

Logic and cold reason are poor weapons to fight fear and distrust. Only faith and generosity can overcome them.

The world which credits what is done is cold to all that might have been.

And I know this world is so cold and deceiving but I keep my head up like my nose is bleeding.

I imagine myself cold as ice falling into your open arms. Everyone says it’s beautiful where I am but I’d rather be where you are.

The moon can never breathe, but it can take our breath away with the beauty of its cold, arid orb.

If you allow coldness to engulf you before winter, season is helpless to help you.

The cold consumes me. The oceans in my eyes freeze. It’s 2 AM and I can’t move. Your loss is too much to bear.