I write the right. I do the left.
Instead of writing my rules, I followed his. And that’s when I knew it all went wrong.
I don’t believe he deserves the thousands of poems I’ve written about him, but life doesn’t follow rules. We do things for people who don’t necessarily deserve it. But we liked it, we loved it and fell in love enough to write about it.
We do things because we want it, not because they’re good for us.
You can’t patch cracks on a glass house.
Don’t allow people to come in and out of your life when it only benefits them.
Maybe the problem isn’t everything and everyone around you, but what lies within you.
I’ve spent awhile trying to figure out where I’m going and the only thing I’ve come to realize is it doesn’t matter where, it’s how I get there.
You can’t just be. You have to become.
I knew I’d be troubled, but who knew awhile meant forever?