Love has no number.

Should it happen, that your partner leaves you for someone else with more money. To where later you strike it richer than the person they left you for, and the ex finds out, after losing all and regretting. It was a blessing that it ended. Though money wasn't sufficient then, mostly they were rich with your love, now suffering being broke in both.

I kiss her ghost, and sleep with the dust on her photograph, next to my bedside.

Love has no fear, willing to take on anyone. But how much we fear love!

It began with a hello, and ended in hell.

Her complexity is a glorious fire that consumes, while her simplicity goes unapproachable. But if one takes time to understand her, there is something beautiful to find, something simple to be loved. But she goes unloved, for being misunderstood.

A friend is the wax that keeps the flame lit, an enemy is the wind that blows it out.

The paper is my savior, the pen my blood, to words that shed my world.

Love will commit, or love will commit suicide.