“I would rather hurt, and walk through the flames you leave, than never feel you.”

Press your ear to my chest and listen where a heartbeat should sing you will hear the melancholy songs of tired whales.

Do broken pianos play broken songs? Do they have busted melodies for busted hearts? Is there a song living inside it that’s waiting to get out? Her keys are shattered and her notes long since silent but I can still hear her song. Just listen, just listen.

To live an honest, simple life, filled with creativity, joy, compassion, and a deeper, richer appreciation for the world around us.

I would imagine there are days when Superman wakes up, glances at his cape, and wonders when someone will come save him.

We carry in us all we could ever possibly need.

Be gentle, always delicate with every soul you meet, for every single morning you wake up, there is someone Wishing, silently and secretly, that they had not.

You have never had to steal my breath, or take it away, somehow you have always managed to convince me to hand it over freely.

Promise me you will not spend so much time treading water and trying to keep your head above the waves that you forget, truly forget, how much you have always loved to swim.

I have blisters on my feet from dancing alone with your ghost.

I am made from the creaking beams and rusted nails of a lonely vessel on a lonely sea. I am covered and coated, dusted with old salt water and the frail residue of moonlight.

Please don’t break this heart, it’s endured so very much, it survived the fall.

Rise and find the grace, for it is all around you.

Adventure lives a whisper beyond our comfort zones, just half a breathe after No turns into Yes.

Oh what we see when we finally stop looking.

I would rather wear honest tears than the most beautiful and elaborately faked smile.

Lay down your roots now, let them wrap tight around mine, sink deep in the soil.

This day’s nothingness as if from spite became a flame and scorched the lips of children and poets.

Then amongst flowers and springs, Making delightful sport, Sat lovers without conflict, without flame

I want to have my kicks before the whole shithouse goes up in flames.

Who has not seen that feeling born of flame Crimson the cheek at mention of a name?

Here are lips of flame eager to be extinguished by love’s liquid sigh.

Stars ink your fingers with a lexicon of flame blazing rare knowledge.

The wrath of God burns against them, their damnation does not slumber; the pit is prepared, the fire is made ready, the furnace is now hot, ready to receive them; the flames do now rage and glow.

Love gives life to the lifeless. Love lights a flame in the heart that is cold. Love brings hope to the hopeless and gladdens the hearts of the sorrowful.