Be bold, child. You are rare and you are brazen light.
NICOLE LYONSI drink to the ones that can sit with their souls and not wish for sleep and the nightmares it brings.
More Nicole Lyons Quotes
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The deepest pain I ever felt was denying my own feelings to make everyone else comfortable.
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She tasted like wildflowers; crushed, wet wild flowers carried in sticky palms through farmers’ fields, just before dawn.
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You love so perfectly, as if you have never been told a heart can be broken.
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I have been covered in easy kisses from uneasy lips, and I know I smell weary again.
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I like my soul when it touches yours; winter turns to summer and my nightmares become dreams.
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I write because suicide is no longer an option.
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I will not force a pretty smile upon my face to please eyes that no longer see me.
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On paper I have killed you a thousand times but my heart disregards clever words.
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They build ladders from my spine and they climb and they fall and they break me, and they climb again.
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If I had known our last kiss was to be our last kiss, I would have kissed you as if it was our first.
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When I told you that I hadn’t been broken before; it wasn’t a fucking challenge.
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You were a lifetime ago, yet here I am, still pulling pieces of you out of me.
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I drink to the ones who can sit with their souls and not wish for sleep and the nightmares it brings.
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Every now and then I roam the catacombs in my head and attempt to resurrect you, and make you shiny again.
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He was everything I never could, but always wanted to love.
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I think you were my taste of heaven after a lifetime of eating hell.
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We were electric together, you and me; we turned hurting each other into a goddamned symphony.
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I have God in my words and the devil in my ear, and a sister who keeps telling me to find my magic.
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Every now and then even the sweetest souls burn it to the ground, just to remind the rest of them who exactly they are fucking with.
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Be patient with me, dear heart. The art of loving is a peculiar business when one has spent an eternity hating themselves.
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You can’t tame a girl who has her head. In the clouds and one foot out the door.
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The tide has pulled the storm from my soul again. But in all that is right or wrong and pure, there is you, and your stunning ability to blur the lines and just be.
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You load your words as I bare my chest, and this will be the most beautiful death.
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Whatever it is that stirs your soul listen to that. Everything else is just noise.
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She is of the strangest beauty and the darkest courage, and when she walks with intent the earth trembles beneath her feet.
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I promised to touch your soul. I never said it would be painless.
NICOLE LYONS