“I’m a drunk poet; and I guess maybe I sipped too much of what I couldn’t buy of her.”

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!

Like her name, some people are best left scrouged on the skin.

I’ve been quiet most of today. By which I mean I can see myself in the mirror; And believe me it is something hard to look at these days.

I guess you’re the bee and the stings all at once; By which I mean you’re the reason I wrap these tired bones around every aching thing.

In the end the salt calls the ocean home; and I guess this is why drowning has always been a part of loving you.

I guess this has been my confusion; where I went wrong. Thinking that love could possibly come as a thing without the burns.

To me there was only ever you!

Men keep agreements when it is to the advantage of neither to break them.

Things aren’t right. If a burglar breaks into your home and you shoot him, he can sue you. For what, restraint of trade?

You have to grab life by the throat and squeeze before it grabs you by your neck and breaks it. Own your destiny.

Let’s just say I’m like a ship passing through storms, resting in ports now and then until it’s time to continue the journey. I once told a friend, `I’m just looking for an angel with a broken wing – one that couldn’t fly away.’

Losing her was plenty.

My heart beats for me, always has, but it waits for you.

I don’t play with a lot of finesse. I usually play like I’m breaking out of jail!

Sometimes, the people we invest the most time in disappoint us the most.