Unlike the bough that shook off her dead leaves violentlylike a wet terrier, unlike the beating of the butterfly, her wings, against the cocoon, some dreams never made a move.
A thousand lips, a thousand eyes, a thousand hearts will read these words, as you read them, graze them, this moment. Thousands will utter them into the abyss, someday, perhaps for years to come; loudly, softly, repeatedly, again and again and again. Some will mock,...
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V.S.Atbay
The will of life and death, never share the same motivation...we all know that love is the ultimate motive to die for...but let’s not kid ourselves......we all know the ultimate motive to rise back from the dead is vengeance.
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Non Nomen
The spirit, my love, is stronger than laughter, stronger than the hungry pantingof reckless lionsthat paw and shuffle underneath the canopy of bowed trees, stronger than the pace of a dying heart, that awaits to be pumped to life by episodes mothered by time, by...
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V.S. Atbay
I love you just the way you arebut you don't see you like I do. You shouldn't try so hard to be perfect. Trust me, perfect should try to be you.
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Bo Burnham
Poetry can be dangerous, especially beautiful poetry, because it gives the illusion of having had the experience without actually going through it.
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Jalaluddin Rumi
More Quotes By V.S. Atbay
All beautiful distractions, ignites from you.
Let the wet earth embrace you firmly, soundly. She needs to be revived, she needs to beat like a heart full of adrenaline inside a chest.
The spirit, my love, is stronger than laughter, stronger than the hungry pantingof reckless lionsthat paw and shuffle underneath the canopy of bowed trees, stronger than the pace of a dying heart, that awaits to be pumped to life by episodes mothered by time, by...
Unlike the bough that shook off her dead leaves violentlylike a wet terrier, unlike the beating of the butterfly, her wings, against the cocoon, some dreams never made a move.
Why are you so hard on yourself? I love you just the way you are, with your withered coat and wet scarf dangling like a spotless chandelier. The snow banks in Montreal are high, but I can see your trace, and silent grace and tin...
