These lungs aren't still filled with you, are they?

Stop silencing yourself.

There's just something so bittersweet about piano melodies and poetry that oozes sadness and lost memories.

Maybe talking to ourselves is not really trying to keep ourselves company, but trying to understand the silence, channel someone else's memory and presence from a distance.

Maybe talking to ourselves isn't a sign of insanity, but of sanity.

I got sawdust in my veins and a mind I'm trying to tame.

It's time to be brave and confident. Because if I don't start now, when will I?

Day will come and you will have relief from the night's vicious grip. Hold on.

And the moon reflected in her eyes gave reassurance that she would never be alone.... even if his arms, she was without.

Let the truth and purpose of love guide you. Nothing else, my love.

Rest your heart now, child. For there are higher mountains you must soon climb.