“In my dreams you conjure me like a spell in the night. Let us haunt one another with uneasy peace, and die burning alive.”

You could not keep me fed by throwing me bones and empty promises. I am ashamed to admit how much starving I did before I finally left.

Can hope bloom in the shade? Can time give back what it takes away? I once saw the answers to life in your eyes; now I can remember the words to goodbye.

In the absence of you I look to the moon and pray that the stars light my way, too.

If we are what we love, Then I am whatever you are made of.

I fall headlong into everything that lights me on fire. I know not of restraint. I was born to burn.

Anxiety is living with an apple on your head and you imagine that everyone you know stands watching with a bow to shoot an arrow at it.

The stars are where we came from. They orchestrated our return to the place we can always come home: our ancient, timeless love.

You are what it feels like to watch the final silvers of sun fall and die into the silver ocean; tangerine sky giving way to moon-glow and starlight.

We weren’t written in the stars; all that glitters wasn’t ours.

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.

When we struggle to change ourselves we, in fact, only continue the patterns of self-judgement and aggression. We keep the war against ourselves alive.

Should you find the most convenient way of breathing, it will not make you feel more alive.

My love for rock kept me alive. It lit a fire in my soul reminding me of my strength to set the world on fire.

Other times, you’re doing some piece of work and suddenly you get feedback that tells you that you have touched something that is very alive in the cosmos.

Let this now be the time, to give thanks even to a small thing that keeps you alive.

I was totally alive when I wrote this because by coincidence someone just said your name.

I don’t believe people are looking for the meaning of life as much as they are looking for the experience of being alive.

We’re so engaged in doing things to achieve purposes of outer value that we forget the inner value, the rapture that is associated with being alive, is what it is all about.