Quotes from “Lullabies” by Lang Leav

Here are the things I want for you.
I want you to be happy. I want someone else to know the warmth of your smile, to feel the way I did when I was in your presence.
I want you to know how happy you once made me and though you really did hurt me, in the end, I was better for it. I don’t know if what we had was love, but if it wasn’t, I hope never to fall in love. Because of you, I know I am too fragile to bear it.
I want you to remember my lips beneath your fingers and how you told me things you never told another soul. I want you to know that I have kept sacred, everything you had entrusted in me and I always will.
Always seeking,
each moment fleeting;
this is where
my soul will rest.

With you I’ve fulfilled,
our destined meeting;
my tired hand,
against your chest.

This is the heart,
that keeps mine beating—
these are the eyes
that mine know best.

If you know a boy with eyes of quiet wonderment, who smiles often and speaks rarely—someone who pays the same respect to words as he would a minefield—who thinks deeply and is endearingly sad—please do not give your heart to him. Even when he gently pleads with you—or clutches your hand with grave earnest—no matter how he tries to convince you, please turn him away. You don’t know him like I know him. You can’t love him like I do.
I wonder if there will be a morning when you’ll wake up missing me. That some incident in your life would have finally taught you the value of my worth. And you will feel a surge of longing, when you remember how I was good to you.
When this day comes I hope you will look for me. I hope you will look with the kind of conviction I’d always hoped for, but never had from you. Because I want to be found. And I hope it will be you—who finds me.
I don’t remember exactly, but the whole time I was dreaming, I knew you were mine
Her Words
Love a girl who writes
and live her many lives;
you have yet to find her,
beneath her words of guise.
Kiss her blue-inked fingers,
forgive the pens they marked.
The stain of your lips upon her—
the one she can’t discard.
Forget her tattered memories,
or the pages others took;
you are her ever after—
the hero of her book.
If only you could have met me now, how different it would be. How much I have changed. How I have grown. I learned so much from all the mistakes I made with you. I just wish I had made them with someone else
Timing is irrelevant when two people are meant for each other.
world, I reply.

Because you won’t take it from me.
Why do you write? he asked.

So I can take my love for you and give it to the world
the less that is said, the better—

the lesser I’ll be hurt
Because I want to be found. And I hope it will be you—who finds me.
I wonder if there will be a morning when you’ll wake up missing me.
Tell me when you lie in bed,

do you think of something

I once said.
Her thoughts do not last,

so her pen must tattoo them.
but my mind still thinks of you. What we had was finished long ago—yet the words will not stop flowing
You are a memory to me now, but my mind still thinks of you
There are many words you never said,

that others dreamed you someday would;
The questions you had never asked

were things you were afraid to know;
I don’t know if I want you, he says. But I do know I don’t want anyone else to have you.
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