“How is it possible that with one stare I’m in flames and no fire extinguisher shall help me? and so here I stand a tree burning from inside out of love from you.”

Oh, how I wish you were here bathing in the silky sheets of my dreams, your lips on mine a flame and wine smoke in the air clouds filled with thoughts oh, how I long for your skin and touch.

When the grass turns brown nobody seems to care. It’s just temporary, they say yet I can feel it will stay and stay.

From time to time, I would like to cut off all the strings and lines that conclude that ridiculous puppet show they call life.

I cried and cried and cried having Realized that the beauty of my soul was being neglected by nobody else but myself.

And I try, I so try to fit everywhere, with everyone to be neutral, to be good and with all that, I lose myself. I lose the truest layer of all.

I feel all that, your touch your presence your breath but can’t tell if its you I’m looking at.

Yet now as we grow older why must we be frightened of being tranquil?

We have to remember to do small things every single day and minute for sometimes love is simply not enough to fill our cup.

This feeling in my chest is telling me to stay to do as I should, to be where I should but my mind is telling me to go away.

Even on the darkest days the sun still rises.

A feeling deliciously bitter lingers on my tongue. It’s sharp relish urges me to keep my mouth shut and my conscience clear. Though how can one act so when one’s veins are stuffed with what’s not said before?

We laid in bed with our hands tied, talked about love and clear, summer skies.

Each and every bad seed counts, for even if they don’t survive or grow too beautifully, a bad seed allows you to re-evalutate the others and appreciate them even more.

I cried today and I cried yesterday, Salty tears rushing down. My face fastened breaths, palms in sweat and the unbearable guilt of my being.

Everyday I am finding neverland in your touch just a little bit more than the day before.

Sometimes you don’t miss the place, the time but the state of mind.

Anything you want to say about God you better make sure you can say in front of a pit of burning babies.

Everyone knows their true calling – it’s burning inside them.

Cooking is an act of love, a gift, a way of sharing with others the little secrets — ‘piccoli segreti’ — that are simmering on the burners.

If I am burning ablaze, passion ignited his love is the sun.

Where there is desire there is going to be a flame where there is a flame someones bound to burned just because it burns doesn’t mean your going to die you gotta get up and try, try, try

We create the light with our burning passion from deep inside.

You don’t need to be burned out to go on hiatus.

You’ve got to have this burning desire in your chest to succeed.