“It breaks my heart to see people with such great potential to love, give up on love.”

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.

There is freedom in loneliness. A kind of freedom that hurts. The kind you wish you never had.

Is it a boon or curse I wonder; to feel another’s pain so much to consider it my own? To moan another’s funeral as if it were my own?

Meeting you was life-changing so was losing you.

Of course, in a novel, people’s hearts break, and they die and that is the end of it; and in a story this is very convenient. But in real life we do not die when all that makes life bright dies to us.

Brokenness is a beginning.

Broken before catching – a break.

To not be able to love the one you love is to have your life wrenched away.

Like a fractured bone in the ribs, the heart can be painfully heavy sometimes.

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.

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.