The sun loved me again when it saw that the stars would not abandon me.
Would you still read me when I become a blank page.
I write to forget the days that broke me into a million nights.
Reading a stranger's words and finding yourself in them.
I am the poet, you are the poem; I hold the pen, you are the words, love is the ink, silence is the blank page.
I know where nowhere is, I know where nowhere leads, it's the place you go when you have nothing left to lose but you.
Every avalanche was once a lonely snowflake, every flood was once an aching raindrop.
You are my favourite part of me.
We crafted everything that hurt us into art.
The things you let go will someday teach you how to fly.
Everything that drowned me taught me how to swim.
And on the days I couldn't breathe, I learned to paint air.
Your eyes see me in ways the mirror never could.
You fade slowly till no one sees you disappear.
I write to create a sky where the moon can touch the sun and not get burned.
The sky is a girl who speaks in thunder, moves in lightning, hides her sorrow with clouds, cries in raindrops,and apologises with rainbows.
The pen, a double-edged mystery: cuts the writer, heals the reader.
