“At times being oblivious keeps me more alive in this chaos.”

Memory is not your enemy. The real enemy is your desires, chasing your past lamenting over and over.

Seek you in me in your darkest times.

Sky; a map of constellations intertwined with dark and light.

Horizon; where lovers entwine like they did alluring, spellbinding – what an affinity they have.

You gave me the courage to rise but my darling robin why did you fly leaving me behind these four walls all alone?

To those who say self-love is selfish, you are either hunted or haunted.

Poetry is a feeling, a feeling of healing.

It’s unconditional; their chemistry is unconditional – forever.

Poetry is a pleasure to your pressure.

I never understood flowers until I met you.

Fall is the rise.

You hit the soft spot of me making my heart skip a beat.

You are my tamed fire in the wind.

Poetry is a home, a home with joy.

No pain no worries only the beating of our hearts.

If I had wings and could fly I’d fly all seas to see your unseen beauty amid the whispers of love.

Better to not know which moment may be your last. Every morsel of your entire being alive to the infinite mystery of it all.

The only time I feel alive is when I’m painting.

We have to live bravely in order to truly feel alive, and that means not being ruled by our greatest fears.

Throughout my lifetime I’ve left pieces of my heart here and there. And now, there’s almost barely enough to stay alive. But I force a smile, knowing that my ambition far exceeded my talent.

A true teacher is one who, keeping the past alive, is also able to understand the present.

The simple truth is, the more we care about others, the more alive and engaged we’re going to feel.

High heels off; I’m feeling alive.

Night, when words fade and things come alive.