In a world filled with poets, it was always you. You are my pen, my paper, my written word.

Each thought of you was like a carefully penned love letter etched perfectly into the realm of my heart. And in that sacred place, locked tightly away from the world, you would always remain flawlessly untouched.

The thing about love is most only find their way into our hearts, but every now and again one will find the entrance to your soul. Once that happens your entire world will shift. It changes you in every way, it paralyzes you, and the way you love will never be the same.

And although I tried to forget you to survive, sometimes the memory of you was the only thing that made me feel alive.

He loved her because she was just as lost as him. Most search for a compass to lead them home, he ached for a like wanderer to travel his broken path.

She searched for his face in crowds where he'd never be, in places that he'd never seen. In her mind he was everywhere haunting her. Her emptiness was beyond heartache, it was a well played tragedy.