Tell me about the rains that washed and wore you down. About the travels you took to find yourself and how you left a part of you in every place, yet somehow always came back more complete.

I have been waiting for the devil living inside of me to stop making love to all the ghosts you left behind.

Tell me about the rains that washed and wore you down. About the travels you took to find yourself and how you left a part of you in every place, yet somehow always came back more complete.

Dont look to the sky for fireworks when you can watch them light up in the eyes of all the people passing by.

I promise if you keep searching for everything beautiful in this world, you will eventually become it.

Never apologize for burning too brightly or collapsing into yourself every night. That is how galaxies are made.