The paper is my savior, the pen my blood, to words that shed my world.
Umbrellas raining upon me, as these cloudy tears give me shelter.
Sometimes we are that fly in the house, that thinks it sees an open window. So it crawls to, or flies head-on into clear glass. At times getting stuck between the storm and pane, it dies in the windowsill under a tormenting, hot sun.
Don’t make prayer a consistent battle, but rather constantly pray against life’s battles.
One day, your beauty will manifest in someone’s eye.
There are no sides in suicide.
It’s dangerous to mistake our wishes for God’s will.
When a fat person goes in the water naked, would it still be called skinny-dipping?
We would like to move on, move up, move around, move in, move down, move out; but none of us are moving.
When I was young, I thought I was a bird at one time. Then they told me I can’t fly, so I stopped flying.
A ghost has all the time to reach for love, but never can. As a person has little time to reach for love, and never does.
Who said death is dead? He’s fully alive, traveling around the world, throwing shadows and soaking in the sun. Visiting the young and old; placing bets and dicing regrets, for the worse or a better off place.
Sin bites bitter. But oh, the sweet taste of salvation, that stirs the spirit!
The apple of my eye, had turned into an empty core.
One of these days, will become a this day. And that day, will be the preeminent of days to come.
With making changes, the difficult part of trying to implement a new way, idea or thought, is getting people to believe the effect of your notion, and have them believe in themselves of adapting to something new.
Me being an ant, at her mountain, I would have tried my best for my voice to reach her peak. But our timing was off, and she hid her pain as stars in clouds. If I had the chance, I would have saved her from all the truths and lies.
Most of the time you meet bodies with a sour soul, and but a few wholly souls with a body.
This I would wish, that there was no time or sleep. No more past, or future, and everything we did was good the first time, for the day. Without the need of looking back to learn from the past, and no future to hope for the better. No more tiredness, or having a need to dream, and no nightmares to fear. If there was a second time, this is how I would like to start over.
Money makes a monster of a man, that makes money his master.