I know who I was, I can tell you who I may have been, but I am, now, only in this line of words I write.
You hung around the tattered edges of my soul, that's where you preferred to be...
(a.) Alt. of Poetical
Love can be so hauntingly beautiful, waking up past selves that have been wandering aimlessly through the corridors of our soul, for far too long. When someone else can take us from the ghost-town of...
Only fools lay claims where lovers thread for when such love is renewed, lovers dance upon their heads.
But the future lay open, a thousand kaleidoscopic possibilities with a small quick heartbeat, delicate and impatient
Writing should beguile us, not just take us from A to B to Zzzzz
Markings in dry clay disappearOnly when the clay is soft again.Scars upon the self disappearOnly when one becomes soft within.
Let your life be poetic enough for others to remember it
Don Ricardo wanted a successor worthy of himself. Jorge would always be cocooned in the privileges of his class, hiding from his mediocrity in creature comforts. Penelope, the beautiful Penelope, was...
The characters in my novels are my own unrealised possibilities. That is why I am equally fond of them all and equally horrified by them. Each one has crossed a border that I myself have circumvented.
[H]is skin was the color of age and his features the shape of a saint’s.
To feel everything in every way; to be able to think with the emotions and feel with the mind; not to desire much except with the imagination; to suffer with haughtiness; to see clearly so as to write...
Someone was playing piano nearby and the music drifted slowly in and out of my mind like the ebb and flow of ocean surf. i almost recognized the melody, but i could not be sure, it slipped like a cool...
I always grow poetic when I am lying to myself.
Everything was chocolate ice cream and kisses and wind.
Sometimes I believe that love dies but hope springs eternal. Sometimes I believe that hope dies but love springs eternal. Sometimes I believe that sex plus guilt equals love, and sometimes I believe t...
I am a daydreamer.. I daydream a lot, and thus is when my wicked imagination emerges to bleed upon my paper...
Poetry purrs like a kitten on the tip of our tongue. Each word fluidly floating from our lips, like little crystalline snowflakes, before settling onto an emotional wonderland of forgotten feelings. I...
Faces pressed against the pane, full of little, content with sawdust tears.
Desperately knocking against the blind little world, i loosened one of its planks, opening a window to a new, wider world. There, spread out, was a profusion of geography, of atmosphere, of full empty...