“What a terrifying thing it is to heal.”

I knew I loved you before I understood what that meant.

All I really know is whatever the cost you’re worth it.

I spent a lifetime building shrine to things that can’t love me back. (music, poetry, you)

My body has always been a stranger. And it aches in a language I don’t understand.

And again I wake up hoping today is the day I don’t miss you.

I don’t know how else to say it. I will love you for the rest of my life.

Of all the people I’ve been the man you loved is the only one I miss.

Maybe letting go isn’t all that different to loving you.

I swear my bones can feel it whenever you speak my name.

What a gentle curse: to still want you after all we’ve been.

She spoke with so much hope, the future dancing on her lips like a flame.

Her smile is an open flame and I have a paper heart.

It was always you who felt like water when my whole body was a flame.

Just because the pain is comfortable doesn’t mean you have to wear it.

Some days survival is all the living I can do.

There’s a weight to it, this missing you.

And in the end, we were all just humans, Drunk on the idea that love, only love, could heal our brokenness.

Forgiving someone isn’t just about doing good to another. It’s also about healing a scar in your own heart.

Healing requires taking action-it is not a passive event.

In a world so torn apart by rivalry, anger, and hatred, we have the privileged vocation to be living signs of a love that can bridge all divisions and heal all wounds.

Today healing energy constantly flows through every organ, joint and cell in my body.

The main question is not, how can we hide our wounds but how can we put our woundedness in service to others.

When we have for so long been judged by everyone we meet, just to look into the eyes of another who does not judge us can be extraordinarily healing.

I’m touched by the idea that when we do things that are useful and helpful – collecting these shards of spirituality – that we may be helping to bring about a healing.