I didn't love her eyes for their color, I loved them because they saw me.

Since you left, home is dark.
No lights were broken, but hearts were.

And we don't repent from our dreams no matter how many times they're broken.

That which inspires us to our greatest good is also the cause of our greatest evil.

She never felt like she belonged anywhere, except for when she was laying on her bed, pretending to be somewhere else.

Her blood colored darkness.

Her throat is raw from screaming to a god who isn't listening.

I praised black the minute I saw the darkest part of you.

At times, my life seems to be nothing but a series of remorse, of wrong choices, of irreversible mistakes.

And so that was what love led to.
To wound and be wounded.

Now I have to remember you for longer than I have known you.

To put on your best outfit and feel like you're dressing a wound.

In her eyes shone the sweetness of melancholy.

"Sometimes, the simplest scenes hold the most memories."

The job of the artist is to remind people of what they have chosen to forget.

In dreams, I talk to you. In dreams, you're mine, all the time. Forever.

Memories warm you up from the inside, but they also tear you apart.

The mind has a thousand eyes,
and the heart but one;
Yet the light of a whole life dies
when love is done.

And suddenly, all the love songs were about you.

What cannot be said will be wept.

My regret is that in all books of my poetry, I do not have a verse as beautiful as your eyes.