lovers

In this world, it is too common for people to search for someone to lose themselves in. But I am already lost. I will look for someone to find myself in.

My heart is torn in tiny pieces scattered throughout the years. I exist in several places because you carry those pieces with you, wherever you go, whoever you choose to be, I__l be beside you in one form or another.

We are philosophers of our timeFloating in the moon's evening glow

I don't have time, energy, or interest in hating the haters; I'm too busy loving the lovers.

You really don't want to be his/her first love. They need to have first fallen in love with Jesus.

She didn't belong anywhere and she never really belonged to anyone. And everyone else belonged somewhere and to someone. People thought she was too wonderful. But she only wanted to belong to someone. People always thought she was too wonderful to belong to them or that something too wonderful would hurt too much to lose. And that's why she liked him-- because he just thought she was crazy.

Our bodies were printed as blank pages to be filled with the ink of our hearts

If I were to share Jaques' existence I would find it hard to hold my own against him, for already I found his nihilism contagious.

The Dictionary defines Soul Mate as: A person who is perfectly suited to another in temperament. Before I met mine, I didn't know I was bonkers!

Dear lover, pull my ears and not my legs for it is better to be cautioned than to be lied to.

I wish not to tell you how I feelI choose silence so that you leaveKiss me goodbye and set me free

The relationship was perfect, but I hated everything about the person I became.

AdiosHer pretty picturelying on theground was likethe topplingof somefascistregimeAnd burningthe photograph,was thecelebration

Do you see how the sky holds the sun?In a powerful but effortless way that shows off her beauty and strength?That's how a King holds his Queen.

It seemed he was the perfect lover, at least for the moment. He did not live where you lived. He did not see you often enough, or for long enough, for you to grow bored, or to feel afraid that you were not feeling love---or worse, that you were. The perfection had a cost, which is that he was not in any true sense a real person. He was a coat you bought off the rack, an unsuperlative fashion statement.

When you find your twin flame you also find your freedom, for there is nothing more exhilarating, wild and free than absolute soul love.

I tend to interpret that whole 'everyone's wife is a Mossad agent' thing in a more sort of metaphorical way--that people you're intimate with might be, like, 'double agents,' y'know? It's a weird kind of paranoia you get about people you love--that they might turn out to be completely different from who you think they are, that it's all been some sort of diabolically patient plot against you. I think that's a pretty normal fear you have in any serious relationship. And that's why it's such a popular part of the epic, because so many people can relate to that fear. But personally, I don't really worry about it too much.

I'm not simple. Loving me will never be easy. I bring every travesty that's rocked me- with me, to the table. I won't pretend to be something I'm not, and I don't expect you to be blemish free either. That's much too boring of an existence. A past means you've lived, you've prevailed. My ears are open. My heart is accepting. I want to know how you are. I want to know what made you... and I want to feel free to share the 'not so pretty' parts of me, with you.