I don’t compare her to a rose; I compare her to the light that it grows towards.
-Poetry At Most
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“I loved him beyond all reason. And it was such a reckless thing to do but, then again, it was not by choice.”
— Poetry At Most
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I made a lot of mistakes that year, and I wish I could say that it all happened for a reason. I wish I could say I understand it all now. But the truth is, there were some things that I never grew from. Some things that only brought pain, and no grand lesson...except for maybe the knowledge that I was strong enough to survive them.
-Poetry At Most
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The irony of you leaving me behind, just to one day call me the one that got away.
-Poetry At Most
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I have loved you for half of my life.
And I will love you for all the rest of it.
-Poetry At Most
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I dreamed of the day that I would let you love me, and that it would be enough.
-Poetry At Most
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I only ever ache for the things I can’t have.
-Poetry At Most
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I love you for every reason, and also for no reason at all.
-Poetry At Most
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In the meantime, I grow roses. I tell everyone it’s for the flowers, but sometimes I think it might be for the thorns.
-Poetry At Most
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You finally fell in love with someone new, and I tell myself it’s because she’s the closest thing you’ve found to me.
-Poetry At Most
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I will never forgive myself for the way I begged you to love me.
-Poetry At Most
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You know all my secrets, and you’re still my favorite one.
-Poetry At Most
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You’re long gone now, but I still remember your dreams.
-Poetry At Most
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I’m so still now. Sometimes I miss the part of me that was always spiraling.
-Poetry At Most
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I remember you now like a character from a film. You were only ever mine until the reel ended. And though I’m still reminded of certain scenes from time to time, I’m not one to watch the same thing twice.
-Poetry At Most
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There are nights that I don’t seem to sleep at all, my mind dripping from thought to thought like raindrops filtering through the branched canopy of a dense jungle.
-Poetry At Most
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I’ve been known to bury memories deep down inside me, for years at a time. After a while, all the feelings that once went with them just begin to melt away into the earth, until I’m left with just the bones. Sometimes when I’m bored I hoist them back up and stare at them through the museum glass of time, wondering if they’re really my memories, or just a play I once saw.
-Poetry At Most
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