Black Butterfly

We must always welcome the end of all things. For sometimes knowing nothing lasts forever is the only way we can learn to fall in love with all the moments, and all the people, that are meant to take our breath away.

Chaos, leave me never, keep me wild and keep me free so that my brokenness will be, the only beauty the world will see.

She was in love, but not in love with someone or something; she was in love with her life.

Sometimes, your scars have a lot less to do with where you have been and a lot more to do with where you are going.

Messages To You My Dear, Sometimes I am here and sometimes I am not, I like that about myself for I am folded. But please guide me in the right direction, for sometimes I, too, tend to lose myself in my imagination.

To change the world we must heal our women, because it is the women who teach us how to love.

Maybe we feel empty because we leave pieces of ourselves in all the things we used to love.

Destroy the fear in you before the fear destroys the life before you.

If there is something you must know before I let you go; it is this: in your journey you will meet broken people, hateful people and people who have lost the sight for their glory. And the beauty of it all is this: I will tell you to love them, to love them deeply and show them how some of us still care. Never give up on them, for to give up on them is to destroy a reflection of ourselves.

We think we owe everyone something. We think we need to explain ourselves and we think too much about thinking too much. And it is funny how we think we know it all, but the reality is this: everything we think that brings us together is everything that sets us further apart. And over thinking of how different we all are; is failing to recognize of how connected we all could really be.

And in the end, she left a scar and I knew that was how she wanted to be remembered. She wanted to leave her mark in the world without getting her heart too attached to it.

Sometimes love is that fucked up movie where everyone dies in the end.

Lost World Maybe that is the problem with the world. We do not know what to feel and we do not know how to be ourselves.

Old photographs We take pictures with people so they could remember us and leave memories behind so they don’t forget us. And the difference between the two are the same. We leave these moments in the air, hoping that somewhere someone will find them and make sense of everything we chose to ignore.

I can’t recognize myself lately; I’m someone I used to know. I think you took me with you and I was hoping you could just leave me somewhere else, because I’ve been waiting for myself, waiting for all the pieces to come home.

Dreams were always drawn to call her name and reality just could not learn to let her go.

From chaos to lullabies I watched her live my thoughts, and soon enough she did become my favorite stony. She was everything and with every word she drew me closer. She drew me into her story, a story I knew I would never be able to understand.

There is nothing out here... it is all inside; it is all in my head. The things that happen do not exist unless I give them meaning. To be able to define everything is where my greatest weakness lies. To be able to feel is the madness I need to make sense of the things that strike me. People strike me, love strikes me and everything else moves me in such a way that I could barely understand. I feel, and everything I feel is nothing; nothing but an extension of the mind and of the heart I was born with.

She was the death of me, the beginning and the end. And I never understood her, for how could someone So beautiful be the cause of so much destruction after all.

Loving me will not be easy. It will be war. You will hold the gun and I will hand you the bullets. So breathe, and embrace the beauty of the massacre that lies ahead.

Then, she began to breathe, and live, and every moment took her to a place where goodbyes were hard to come by. She was in love, but not in love with someone or something; she was in love with her life. And for the first time, in a long time, everything was inspiring.

Dedicated to all who have a dream to all who struggle two jobs to get by to all who have been ignored all their lives to all who feel empty to all who cannot sleep because there is so much in their mind to all who have died a little in the name of love to all who are called weird, strange and odd to all who create because that is the only thing they know how to do to all who believe in something to all who breathe and to all who are no longer here this one is for you.

Sometimes, we hate ourselves for the feelings we ignore. Maybe that is the problem; we do not listen to ourselves until it is too late.

Our fate lies in the hands of the things we love and sometimes the things we love are the things that lead us to the fatal destruction of ourselves.

We take pictures with people so they could remember us and leave memories behind so they don’t forget us. And the difference between the two are the same. We leave these moments in the air, hoping that somewhere someone will find them and make sense of everything we chose to ignore.

I knew what we had was not over, we were not done and we did not know how to make our love end.

I couldn't find the words to save you, to make you still. And I buried myself in the regret until I became it. If only I had known, then perhaps, you would have stayed.

And every time I look at you, I can feel something stirring inside of me. Like a collection of dying stars drowning beneath the waves. Waves that belong to your ocean and I have fallen deeply without really knowing how far it all could go.

she was always willing to burn for everything she has ever loved.