“I think I’ve mastered the art, of taming my wild heart, now my heart doesn’t flutter, thinking about you.”

To the flamboyant boy from my school, I realize now you’ve always been cool.

You’re a patched tapestry, of deep childhood trauma’s, and unkept promises.

Oh, darling, you fell in love with a girl not worth loving.

I used to be a mighty dragon, the one that breathes fire, I used to be a magical unicorn, sprinkling rainbows everywhere, but now I’ve lost it, the magic hidden within.

Your artful hands, hold my delicate heart, tenderly gaze at it, as if its an art.

Can you hear my silence? I’m screaming pretty damn loud.

Somedays I fear, I’ll run out of words.

Writers block grappled our souls, we fought back with our words.

Am I killing the kid in me, by strangling my curiosity?

I will never give up on you, from a person who treats like crap is not sweet. It’s toxic and you gotta run!

The opening chords of our rhapsody, lulled me into a state of bliss, as the glistening sunrise in your eyes, intoxicated my soul, drew me in.

I wish I had said no, the day you asked for my number, but I was young, dumb and numb, looking for a harbor of harmony, to mend my shattered soul.

How do you find words, when you’ve lost your soul? If every emotion you ever knew, you can’t feel them anymore.

If this was my last poem I’d dedicate it to myself.

Vibes change, Connections break.

Your eyes met mine, and we know our story, from beginning to the end, all things said and unsaid.

It’s so empowering to see so many people uniting over love and art.

Art is a way of survival.

I knew I was different. I thought that I might be gay or something because I couldn’t identify with any of the guys at all. None of them liked art or music. They just wanted to fight and get laid. It was many years ago but it gave me this real hatred for the average American macho male.

Sometimes art seems to be something very sublime, and, as you say, something sacred.

Art is to look at not to criticize.

The purpose of Art is to create enthusiasm.

Art is always good. It just depends if you like or not.

The whole art of government consists in the art of being honest.