"I Love You As Certain Dark Things Are To Be Loved, In Secret, Between The Shadow And The Soul."

"I won't belong to anyone else, just you. Until my bones turn to ashes and my heart stops beating."

Pablo Neruda

[Text ID: "I won't belong to anyone else, just you. Until my bones turn to ashes and my heart stops beating."]

a lot of things are outside our control and that's okay. that's normal. no one controls everything.

"That's what people do who love you. They put their arms around you and love you when you're not so lovable."

- Deb Caletti

The smoke of despair spares no one. No matter how hard you try to avoid it, no matter how fast you try to run away from it. It seeps in through the smallest of cracks and crevices and shrouds you, blinds you. So much so that you can't see yourself. Can't feel yourself.

Sooner or later, it will dissipate.

But the remnants of the smoke which have infiltrated you will stay behind. It'll stay behind for a long time, and keep on reminding you of how debilitating it feels. But who knows? It might even stay forever.

"All the things that have brought us pain, carve a distinct hole in our heart, and there's someone else out there with the perfect something that will fill the void. And in turn, we get to do the same for them. And suddenly, it all makes sense. It all fits. Because we haven't been forsaken. We've been prepared."

TRAVIS | MIA SHERIDAN

"Every poem that I've created was yours. I thought they were mine, but they were yours. And I wish I could've kept them. And I wish I could've kept you."

Confessions Of A Wallflower | Juansen Dizon

Outside the barred window, the sky was thick with stars, and the moon, in its first quarter, was rising behind the mountains. Poets loved the full moon, they wrote thousands of poems about it, but it was the new moon that Veronika loved best because there was still room for it to grow, to expand, to fill the whole of its surface with light before its inevitable decline.

Veronika Decides To Die, Paulo Coelho

"Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears, for they are rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts. I was better after I had cried, than before--more sorry, more aware of my own ingratitude, more gentle."

GREAT EXPECTATIONS | CHARLES DICKENS

“…there is the heat of Love, the pulsing rush of Longing, the lover’s whisper, irresistible—magic to make the sanest man go mad.” ― Homer, The Iliad

December, you're the last, please be the best.