“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.”

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.

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.

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.

I gave all of my vulnerability away for you, to you exposed the dirt of my soul not understood. Kept on, waiting for hope, in despair.

I dreamt of you when our souls bled together and now we are eternal.

Since I was shot, everything is such a dream to me. Like I don’t know whether I’m alive or whether I died. I wasn’t afraid before. And having been dead once, I shouldn’t feel fear. But I am afraid. I don’t understand why.

I want to go deep inside so I can feel the warmth of your dreams.

Hope rises and dreams flicker and die. Love plans for tomorrow and loneliness thinks of yesterday. Life is beautiful and living is pain.

This is for all of you out there tonight, reaching for a dream – don’t ever give up! Never ever listen to anyone, when they try to discourage you, because they do that, believe me!

Don’t settle! Embrace a dream–and keep dreaming. Don’t be a bystander. Take it personally.

Dreamers dream about things being different. Visionaries envision themselves making a difference.

I don’t want to get down I want to get high. To stay high to fly high out of it.