If you could be anyone,
Would you chose to be yourself?
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 2:19 AM UTC
I like you.
Your eyes are full of language.
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 12:27 AM UTC
Isn't it weird that in 20 years some of us could be married, some of us could be famous and some of us could be dead.
Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 6:17 PM UTC
She pretends she like doesn't miss you,
You're acting like you don't give a ****
Ego is a hell of a drug.
May 29, 2015
May 29, 2015 at 12:52 AM UTC
Black is not sad.
Bright colours are what depress me.
They're so.. Empty.
Black is poetic.
How do you imagine a poem?
In a bright yellow jacket?
Probably not.
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 9:27 AM UTC
She is made up of words that not anyone can understand;
Her mind is a dictionary of sadness and heartache,
And her heart is a poetry book for the hopeless.
She is the prettiest song,
The perfect sonnet,
The most meaningful haiku,
And the longest novel.
It takes a while to read her,
Seconds to love her,
And a lifetime to forger her.
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 1:11 PM UTC
Heaven exists.
It's 7pm with your lips pressed against mine.
He'll exists.
It's 3am with you on my mind and not in my bed.
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 8:40 AM UTC
Maybe we feel empty because we leave pieces of oursf in everything we used to love.
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 3:31 PM UTC
You shouldn't point out things about people's appearance if they can't fix it in ten seconds.
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 3:06 AM UTC
And the sad thing is, we hate who we are but we also hate who we aren't.
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 11:08 PM UTC