Dominic Riccitello Quotes

To fall in love with pain is to fall in love with art.

We were one, even in the darkest corner.

His whisper was the softest sound I ever knew, which seemed to bring the loudest heartbeat.

We grooved together with a rhythm so beautiful that I could feel the moment turned into poetry.

It was our first date and I asked what his favorite movie is. He asked if I'd judge him, but instead of judging him I just loved him.

I've spent awhile trying to figure out where I'm going and the only thing I've come to realize is it doesn't matter where, it's how I get there.

I don't write poetry. I reiterate conversations.

between your arms
it was to die
to feel your warmth
the bliss of your heart
it was my life

I realized I loved him after everything went wrong so I wallowed in self-pity and prayed I could wake up.

I had no desire to tell anyone I was in love. I knew and that was all that mattered. I had a theory that sharing would somehow take away the love and give it to everyone else. And I wanted it. All to myself.

I think if we stop running towards broken arms, we'd all be just fine.

I gave him my heart without thinking how it would feel if he returned it.

The hard part wasn't breaking up. The hard part is forcing myself to fall out of love with you.

What if I were to wish upon a blood moon that I could have you standing here and I standing there? And when it happens to arrive in eighteen years, that you'll be there, waiting for me like I'll be waiting for you. As we did on the night where the moon shined down and I saw you standing in white with eyes that could ignite and a fire which couldn't quite die.

You can't just be. You have to become.

Give second chances, third chances, but not a fourth, a fifth, a sixth and so on. Appreciate yourself and understand your worth – know it takes time for people to change, to become better. But know what you can take and what you deserve.

Mending hearts is as natural to me as breaking them is to you.

He wasn't my boyfriend, but he was something. Someone who made a positive impact on my life regardless of the negative. He changed my perspective for the better and made me who I am in this very second. I appreciate, cherish, and thank him for it; and I will for this life and into any life that may come.

We're meant for each other for a moment, but no one knows how long the moment lasts except the moment itself.

The raindrops tapped your windows like my lips tapped your back.

He wasn't a good person, but I painted him to be and since I painted it, I believed it.

Maybe the problem isn't everything and everyone around you, but what lies within you.

True love is not expecting a response when you say I love you.

In theory, I never loved you. I loved us. That's what everyone forgets.

I think we might've met in a past life. You know, one of those you pass and think, wow you're kind of beautiful. Just one of those.

I'm not thankful for being fucked over, I'm thankful for what I took from it. What I learned. What I taught myself in that particular moment. I'm grateful someone was able to take me there and let me be in that moment - not with them, but with myself. How my emotions could surrender to someone and make me feel everything I felt. It destroyed me, but I made my way through; and I look back years from, and I still love him, I do.

Sometimes relationships aren't meant to be forever. We stumble upon one another to learn, to love, to appreciate and become who we're supposed to be.

Your worth is what you allow it to be.

He said I wanted revenge, but if I wanted revenge I would've just broken his heart.

They leave to test the waters but fail to realize the waters are full of rapids.

I loved myself and since I loved me, I loved him because I realized he was good for me. A type of self worth, a type of narcissistic love.

The only reason time seems to be moving rather fast is that sometimes we're too busy living in the past.

Playing victim to situations you can walk away from is disrespectful to people who face positions where they can't.

I was the fire to your ice, the only snake eyes you ever rolled with that dice in your mind.

Some long for acceptance while others fear for anything ordinary.

I told you I loved you, but I said it a little too late. You move in time and sometimes our timing is against one another.

I only ever asked for the moment, but you seem to think I asked for more.

You choose darkness over light because one is the truth and one is the mask.

His eyes said what I cannot see.

We had our day, we had our game and I know you were just afraid, but I never or would've ever brought the pain.

Don't allow people to come in and out of your life when it only benefits them.

I walked the streets looking for something instead of letting what I wanted, to look for me.

And sometimes being in love is not enough to make it work.

It was perfect, but perfection is terrifying.

I've met plenty of beautiful people but I honestly can't tell you what they look like.

The thing with breaking up is they leave, but the memories stay.

It's not that I think you're a sad person in a sense of you being pathetic, it's different. I look in your eyes and I see your soul and I know how it feels. The way you kneel and those feelings of despair. All I wanted you to know is that I'm here. Regardless of my presence, you know I can and I will always be there for you.

Ran out of things to say, metaphors for you. Why the ocean's clear instead of blue, why mountains in the distance had reminded me of you.

I'll never know if it was figuratively or literally when he said I drove him crazy.

I loved you with texture. You loved with a softness. Texture brought detail, softness brought folds. Folds brought creases and creases had secrets.

You have my heart, but I don't know what you want with it.

He said he liked my rhythm. I said I liked his heartbeat, and it was within that moment I knew our corners would never meet.

Some fake happiness, some fake sadness and some fake an orgasm.

I only say I love you when I mean it just like I only speak in tongues when I'm heated.

Hallucinations aren't always out of the ordinary. How do we know we're not hallucinating if everything seems plausible?

I loved you with different words than you knew and that seemed to scare you.

When you're constantly abused, you don't understand how emotionally and mentally draining it is. You're truly immune and it feels like you need it.

Fake happiness is the worst kind of sadness.

They're scared of the other kind of love. The one which lacks hurt, but pains after awhile.

We were riding fast, I got lost in the thought that this couldn't end. Good things end. Bad things we reminisce.

I sat in a world of sorrow trying to figure things out. I couldn't because the world isn't supposed to be figured out. You're not supposed to get it. You're supposed to flow with it and things come or don't. It's that simple, but we think everything's complex when it's just sitting right in front of us.

Loving you was easy. Hating you was hard. Falling out was insane.

I don't confide in others because I honestly don't feel they would genuinely understand the cards I've been dealt.

We can't be afraid to dismiss the unappreciative.

There was no unknown. He loved me and I loved him. There was no question, no doubt, no uncertainty, which perhaps caused us to lose ourselves indefinitely and enter a void so permanent. One where we stood with such confidence, which sounds lovely; but when you believe you have everything, you simply lose everything.

People love the facade of a perfection relationship because perfection seems alluring. What they don't realize is perfection is terrifying.

It didn't affect him because he couldn't fathom how I felt. He never saw how I held or how I dealt. And when a breeze hits, his first thought is never a scent. We worked in different ways and different places, which were divided by a constellation.

we were just
looking for what could
instead of what was
what should be
instead of how it was

You're like a Pokemon and the only word you know is your name.

I came for a portion but left with the universe.

a darkened hue
with lips like cherries
eyes of lightning
and that's the moment
i knew we were on fire

I romanticized him until he was the perfect being. A soul so beautiful, but so immensely evil too.

I loved you, I did. I believe I even sold myself a bit: on your love, my lust, your hair and just the way we stood there. How the air smelled of you, the way your shirt was cursed with blues. The way we danced by the ocean in front your mini-garden. The white fence, your loveliness and the heavenly kisses. It'll always be the sheets, lying beside, holding your arm and kissing your hair in a loving stride.

The darkest hours bring the most light.

I was nineteen. You had your lips on my neck and whispers in my ear. You drove me crazy. But I mistook crazy for absolute happiness.

Some people live just looking for someone to die for.

My muse is six feet, a hundred and ninety pounds and cradles my soul in his arms without knowing it.

Time never touched you. It touched me and then I seemed to regret everything. Your hair in my face, eyes in my mind, a darkness I found in you. But you don't regret. You hold within. You feel in memory because love lost is still a love once had. You remember passion, conversations over dinner, moments interwoven before each other. We die to live, not die to cry over memories which don't last our expected timeframe.

And in the end, I said you would love me. We're in the end and there's only one of us here.

Arrogance will kill anything and everything you ever possibly have.

Unfortunately, your want was different than mine and your mind was more youthful than mine, always changing from time to time.

You didn't understand the poem, but that was because it wasn't for you. It was for me to understand the pain you put me through.

Occasionally we must disconnect to reconnect later on.

I couldn't sleep without you. Not because I needed you, but because your body was a temperature I was used to being next to.

I see more light than dark, but when I encounter dark I seem to get lost in it.

His love was a poison: soft and loveable, hideous yet touchable.

Eventually I'll stop writing about you and it'll be bittersweet. Not because I'm not in love with you, but because I'll just love you.

People believe that soulmates are two people that were made for one another. I believe that we were made for someone, but that doesn't necessarily mean they were made for us.

I went into the new year loving myself in different ways, in a different possibility. It was then that I understood things I hadn't. It was then that I understood people I hadn't. We work in ways where sometimes we don't align because our intersections lead us elsewhere. We find ourselves in rapids which lead to lightning, in beds that leave us homesick. We lust after the impetuous, in hopelessness, and sometimes in the reactive.

We like things and people who are bad for us and that's fine. It's fine because it's life. It happens. They exist. We exist. We all exist together in this world where nothing seems to make sense. Where everything is nothing but imaginary because it's what we imagine it to be. Reality exists and it's there, but life is what you make it. Your actions ask for it. How you exist is how you exist.

We take every new year and give it a theme because we're scared of how it could be. You change in the moment, not by years. You be to become and becoming is something which frightens people. Lead by example instead of letting the example lead you. Take this new year and find yourself in people who question it because questioning is how you gain from it.

I like my whiskey like I like my men: on the rocks, ready for death as I devour at their first intent.

As he stood in the darkness, his eyes glistened and that's when I knew my light found its traction.

I pushed him against his Jeep, looked him dead in the eye and kissed him. He asked if he could come up, and I just walked up the steps and said, not yet. That was the moment I knew I loved him.

They're scared of death, but that's like being afraid of life.

It was more than disappointment, but I gained from it. I learned from it. I leaned into it to step out of it. You learn from different perspectives and to be given the chance to grasp them is beautiful.

Sometimes love them more than you, but just make sure you love yourself too.

I was shattered glass but you weren't a repairman.

I believe I've already met my soulmate and even if I'm not his, the memory makes me smile because it was truly beautiful.

I don't remember his face or the place we ate. I only remember how he grabbed my hand and his voice when he spoke of his dad.

Should've, could've, would've, but you didn't. So you move on.

I don't believe he deserves the thousands of poems I've written about him, but life doesn't follow rules. We do things for people who don't necessarily deserve it. But we liked it, we loved it and fell in love enough to write about it.