"How can you promise something and just shake it off?" asked the heart.

The clouds, the storm, are unique to me -
They only exist in my head;
I have become a natural disaster -
I am a living tempest.

As the rain spells out
your name in stutters,
my nerve endings fray
like unspun silk in a storm,
fine and raw.

The night bus to your dreams
is not in service
and I remember
how we were with
poetry in our veins
and love on lips.

I never wanted to be different I just wanted to be me.

I denied my feelings, saying it
doesn't matter, forget about it,
but you questioned, are you sure?
And my quiet breaths answered.

The guilty one is not he who commits the sin, but the one who causes the darkness.

A wise bird told me a friend is as good as an actor

One little KISS can contain the grandest passion.