“It’s funny how love fades, and they become more than a poem about yesterday.”

I liked her simplicity. She wanted coffee and orgasms.

In an endless universe, she needed space.

I messed up a lot of things. I called it poetry.

Overcoming guilt, its the first step to doing it again.

Sometimes there are no words. Sometimes, it’s just poetry.

I wake to find her there, with glowing eyes and tangled hair. She is my sunrise.

Her memory still lingers, like a cockroach in my heart.

True love is letting her know that her ass really does look fat in those jeans.

If there’s never been a restraining order, it ain’t love.

It wasn’t forever. But I loved her until I hated her.

She was only a collection of flaws and she was beautiful.

There’s a strange beauty in her. She shines like hell.

He opened her cages, and freed the things inside.

I’m wrong but I’m real.

Break me. Until there’s nothing left and I’ll be free.

She’s no rose. But in her I see the beauty of thorns.

It’s better to burn out than to fade away.

Your smile stuck in my soul but your touch has faded away.

Our lives are like the wind or like sounds. We come into being, resonate with each other. Then fade away.

A life lived in love will never be dull.

Love can never grow old. Locks may lose their brown and gold. Cheeks may fade and hollow grow. But the hearts that love will know, never winter’s frost and chill, summer’s warmth is in them still.

I mean the flesh, never fade! The flesh never leave the creation, see, because with that divine spirit the flesh cannot fade. If the spirit is weak then the flesh fade, seen?

Old loves are dropped when new ones come.

When I’m faded I forget, I forget what you mean to me. I hope you know what you mean to me.