I was in the twilight of my life, and the charming person I met along the road was my only dawn.
At night, I fall asleep with images of myself, swaying and smiling with them... you
I wished over and over and over again, that smashed yet sparkling me could stop loving you, darling.
I want nothing and everything with you. It completely scares me.
I had nightmares of becoming a beautiful yet tragic poet, but upon meeting you I saw those dreams spread like the billion stars in the night sky.
Honestly, I didn't mind because I know that all it takes is getting all you ever wanted, and then completely losing it to know what you can be.
Years of being on a never-ending world journey and my memories of you were the only things that persisted me, and my only blissful moments.
When the people I used to live around discovered what I have been doing, and whom I have been kissing, what I’ve been drinking, and how I'd been living, they asked me, “What the **** are you thinking?
However, there's no use to talking with people who have a home.
Every experience was fire itself and that terrified me yet helped me obsess for freedom, dear.
These faint-hearted mice do not know what it's like to find safety in other people - for ‘home’ to be wherever or whomever you want.
I want an honest compass pointing me anywhere but I have an indecisiveness inside me that is as wild and wavering as the sea.
I always had this fiery madness intimately inside me it dizzied me and then you tossed gasoline on it and it dazed me.
I think I was born to be the other woman.
The woman that belongs to everyone and no one at the same time, merely emptying herself to please others.
But then I start to believe that I am my own woman. And that wonderful tease in control and loving the war I created with myself.
I adore being the unrequited one in particular. You are my coffee but I feel like the mistreated coffee machine.
Thank you for my dreamy blues.