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

She was simple. Like a poem, and always dressed in sunshine.

She was an artist on top of me, and soaked my sheets with poetry.

A lot of ugly people hide behind beautiful eyes. A lot of things are only lies.

I never drink in the morning. Mornings are for drugs.

She could be anything. But she’s just a girl with a broken heart.

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

Late nights. Poetry. Cigarettes. and a wounded heart, trying to forget you.

She’s like a jar of butterflies, waiting to be opened.

Sometimes I wonder if these rain soaked shoes will get me home.

She wanted romance. I just wanted to fuck the stars out of her eyes.

Women are beautiful. But some are made of hell.

This heart. It’s broke. I don’t want it anymore.

Romance is a dream. I can get better shit at the liquor store.

With her, the world becomes art.

I hated you. and you hated me. But we called it love.

Love lives. and dies. as fast as butterflies.

You always have a choice. It’s just that some people make the wrong one.

Love is Love no matter old you are, and I knew if I gave you enough time, you’d come back to me.

The road to love is full of danger signs.

Most of your suffering comes from the lack of understanding of yourself and others.

I needed to lose you to love me.

The greater the love, the greater the tragedy when it’s over.

I must get my soul back from you; I am killing my flesh without it.

The sadness will last forever.