“I’m sorry love scares me, I’ve only seen it end in pain.”

All the dreams you planted in my eyes, will someday haunt you alive.

Death I believe has many forms. It is a shapeshifter. But amongst all the forms it has, love is my favorite.

Time heals but only when nourished with love. The only possible cure for heart break is to love again.

You don’t have to try to fix anyone. You just have to love them.

Most times there is more pain than love in my heart. Sometimes, I hope just sometimes; I find moments that fill my heart with more love than pain.

Tear me open and I will bleed in your name. My heart aches from your absence, but in the aching and breaking is where my art is born.

I would steal the sun, if that is what it took to bring the light back into your eyes.

I keep reminding myself of why we couldn’t be; reasons why sometimes, love just isn’t always enough.

He tells me he is broken and love isn’t for him. Someone please go tell him, heart break births the best of lovers.

Love is like water; like a river crushing through the mountains to carve its own path. Love will make its own way but only if you have the courage to follow.

He is right in front of me and I’m still grieving his loss – abandonment issues.

But hopes are just dreams and not all dreams come true. So I hope of you, knowing very well that you could never come true.

Look into my eyes and tell me I a matter. Then in my eyes see how it’s always been you who matters.

There is so much rain in my heart and yet it feels so empty. Then I remember, for flowers to grow, you need sunshine too.

The cold consumes me. The oceans in my eyes freeze. It’s 2 AM and I can’t move. Your loss is too much to bear.

This soul of yours has lived a million lives before you. Listen to it, believe in it. It knows the way, it has seen it all.

Your heart can capture pain and love at the same time.

Your absence in my heart has taught me how to find my own way finally.

I hold a trembling fire in my heart, to burn the ghosts of broken regrets.

The child within; raised voice; fast heart; flinches. Flight response, with an attitude and broken hinges. The child within; tiptoes; eggshells. Heaven; hell. Still, she finds a quiet place, safe and tranquil; dwell.

Hope is a gift I hold in my heart. It spills into words and gets written into art.

A broken heart is usually mended in isolation.

S-T-I-T-C-H your heart with tones of self love.

Everything worth experiencing in life has the potential to break your heart.