“I am strong. My heart still hopes. My mind still dreams. My soul still craves pouring energy into everything that I love.”

Last night, I sent you home with a kiss and a promise. I hope you still believe in roses.

Our story bleeds from my eyes until I cannot tell the stars from streetlights.

Standing in your power scares a lot of people. You become something formidable, intimating, and aspirational all at once.

Poetry? That’s easy. I just cut the vein, and let it bleed.

Do I look as good as I remember, Looking back at you from over my shoulder, smug as the devil?

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

“Ashes”, we once thought, but the embers in our eyes might have bought us time.

How do you sleep soundly, knowing you traded roses for weeds?

I am a phoenix living in a culture of vultures.

You’re preserved inside of me; cadaversque. I both acquiesce and atrophy because of it.

As if flesh and skin and hands are any match for bullets. As if bones won’t crack in hails of powder and lead. As if rivers of blood are not the direct result of trigger fingers that bend but do not break on “bad days”.

Love me until oblivion paints your portraits on my eyelids, sinking by eons into distance that never separates us.

I don’t know how to put my love down, or to keep holding too much of it.

Your darkness does not scare me, nor will I run from you; like a star, I’m falling for the phases of your moon.

We usually seek the divine in the sky, But religion is best found on the ground. Nature is our true creator.

When I was a child, I used to fear monsters under the bed. I have since learned that most monsters are found within. And they are always worth fighting.

I dream in my dreams all the dreams of the other dreamers. And I become the other dreamers.

I know how men in exile feed on dreams.

I dream of painting and then I paint my dream.

A garden to walk in and immensity to dream in – what more could he ask? A few flowers at his feet and above him the stars.

When you chase a dream, you learn about yourself. You learn your capabilities and limitations, and the value of hard work and persistence.

You have to fight to reach your dream. You have to sacrifice and work hard for it.

Dreams are not what you see in your sleep, dreams are things which do not let you sleep.

We must be moving, working, making dreams to run toward; the poverty of life without dreams is too horrible to imagine.