“And when the cold comes, I swear I can feel her in my bones.”

Pain is never too weak to leave the body still standing or laughing the same.

Sorry to a heavy heart in the morning; sorry to waking up and being yourself the only reason to cry.

I can sing love; only I’m afraid the lyrics might get shattered again.

I guess there’s so much in your absence that kills my soul from the burning wood to ash.

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.

Sometimes, if you’re lucky, someone comes into your life who’ll take up a place in your heart that no one else can fill, someone who’s tighter than a twin, more with you than your own shadow, who gets deeper under your skin than your own blood and bones.

Little events, ordinary things, smashed and reconstituted. Suddenly, they become the bleached bones of a story.

I learned that the world didn’t see the inside of you, that it didn’t care a whit about the hopes and dreams, and sorrows, that lay masked by skin and bone. It was as simple, as absurd, and as cruel as that.

Your words were cold. I felt them as they crashed through my bones.

Day after day, the echoes of losing you resonate in my bones.

Yeah lets grow old together, But promise me we’ll always have youth in our bones.

December sinks in like a cold shouldered old friend. I try to stretch, reach my toes, but my own bones feel covered in snow.

There will never be a day, I am not thankful for the fire you brought to my life that still warms me to the bones.