Maybe he would ruin her like the waves crashes the shore, but nothing was more beautiful for her than wanting to be wrecked into his demise. In his ruins she breathed to exist.

I didn't know who I was or what I was until I transformed into some mere words on an unscathed sheet, some lines pressed between the cobwebs of a turbulence, a love story.

Maybe in the wrong way I am falling in love with the right person.

Hope is the easiest thing that turn into dust.