It was perfect, but perfection is terrifying.
I became to understand you and all of you.
I love you, but there will be a dozen more too.
We were as big as the ocean, but as fragile as an ego.
I loved everything to anything to everyone who surrounded him. He was perfect. A delusion with a sweet melancholy taste. He was crazy, but he was my crazy and inside, everything felt right.
I stumbled upon something and someone so magnificent I was truly blind to it.
I fear falling in love and understanding why.
When you look in the mirror, do you look at yourself or for yourself?
I loved you with texture. You loved with a softness. Texture brought detail, softness brought folds. Folds brought creases and creases had secrets.
running with sharp knivesnever got me so farbut running with youseemed lovely
Sometimes love them more than you, but just make sure you love yourself too.
But could words bethe end of me?
The thing with breaking up is they leave, but the memories stay.
I worked with him in a way where there was no need to align. We felt and the feeling was simple but complex. It was the intensity in our grasp and when it was done, it was done.
We grooved together with a rhythm so beautiful that I could feel the moment turned into poetry.
The meaning of life is to die living it.
How can you be afraid to live yet scared to die?
The problem was I always took the blame. But he was wrong. But I thought me taking the blame could fix it.
All of my bad ideas were always my best.
All of your fears and thoughts were mine, you were so scared but it was beyond divine.
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