Turn your fears into excitement.Your anxieties into enthusiasm. Your passion into energy.
lean in to kiss mein all the placeswhere the acheis the most special.
i have laughedmore than daffodilsand cried more than June.
a flower knows, when its butterfly will return, and if the moon walks out, the sky will understand;but now it hurts, to watch you leave so soon,when I don't know, if you will ever come back.
I find it incredibly amazing how at every sunset, the sky is a different shade. No cloud is ever in the same place. Each day is a new masterpiece. A new wonder. A new memory.
Some days I don't know what is greater.My wisdom, or my stupidity.
The magic fades too fastthe scent of summer never lasts the nights turn hollow and vast but nothing remains...nothing lasts.
Poems are invisible flowers on my skin.
the sapphire depthof my own love...startlesand warmsand wounds my soul.
your gazeacrossmy cheeksturned theminto strawberry fields.
Fall in lovewith the energyof the morningstrace your fingers along the lullof the afternoonstake the spirit of the eveningsin your armskiss it deeply and thenmake loveto the tranquilityof the nights.
We hold on to poetry because it lights a fire in our soul and keeps our bodies warm.
stronger than mountains.a place where my heart feels the safest- underneath his shirt.
in a worldfull oftemporary thingsyou area perpetual feeling.
It is kind of ridiculous that a poet is expected to live in the real world.
the onewho will jolt awakeall the unwrittenthe unsungand the unlived in me. i am waitingfor him.
You are that one breath. that puts all the remaining breaths. back into my body.
When you left you left behind a fieldof silent flowers under a sky full of unstirred clouds...you left a million butterfliesmid-silky flutters You left like midnight rain against my dreaming ears Oh a...
someday i will walk under the soul-blossom tree with my hand eternally woven in yours.
all the wordsall the poems know my warm, soft spots.
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