"... and we were like parallel lines. We were not destined for each other and will never be."

"It depends on what type of geometry you're referring to. In hyperbolic geometry, parallel lines meet at an ideal point - a point at infinity. I don't mind living in hyperbolic space. Would you?"

I love you because you demand your dreams into existence. I love you because you love the skies in peach, light orange and a shade of purple. I love you because you always made me think of the starry night when I'm with you.

And if hope has no ears,
why did it hear the whispers of my heart?
If it does not have eyes,
why did it see its desires?
If it doesn’t know how to feel,
why did it feel the need to change?
To change the world that grinds down the poor and the marginalized. And if hope has no voice,
why did it urge the call for action?

why do most writers and poets write about pain? yes, why do i write about you?

can i tell you something? i don't think about you anymore.

can i be honest? i lied.

you left me with the fork. what's the use of this when all that we had was a soup?

break my heart and you'll see memories of sunset, sunrise, skies in pretty colors, rain and flowers

break my heart and you'll see a map of galaxies

break my heart and you'll see laughter and smiles of children

break my heart and you'll see all of these in shattered pieces

You told me I was the moon and you are the planet. You promised to love me eventhough I have different phases. I found out that you are the planet Mars and I am not your only moon.

pretty skies,
cold weather,
soft rains,
coffee shops,
morning kisses,
back hugs,
adventure,
deep conversation under blanket of stars,
YOU

who are you when i am not watching?
can i trust the same man i love?

who are you when the sky is full of stars and i'm not by your side to gaze at them?
can i assure you won't look for another woman to watch the pretty sky with you?