“I knew you would leave someday; And from there a poet will be born from the ashes.”

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.

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.

Everybody’s gotta learn, nobody’s born knowing.

If you’re born poor it’s not your fault but if you die poor it’s your fault.

Genius gives birth, talent delivers.

I was born to chase peace and love wild things. I was born a beautiful bohemian paradox.

The day I made peace with my pain was the day I was born again.

I think my soul was born with wings; it’s always restless, it won’t sit still.

Nothing gives us a greater idea of our soul, than that God has given us, at the moment of our birth, an angel to take care of it.

After traveling through fourteen foreign countries and appearing before all the royalty and nobility I have only one wish today. That is that when my eyes are closed in death that they will bury me back in that quiet little farm land where I was born.