“I held my breath underwater and felt surrender in my lungs; maybe this too counts as love.”

These sharp edges you left behind, they cut so deep; and I guess maybe I am just not dying enough.

Breathe in the pain and bring out the wounds. It’s only a process and you’ll learn to survive the rest.

Give everything some time; pain hasn’t learn to walk yet.

Somedays depression is tender, as though hurting is just an art; and that maybe she didn’t break me more than enough!

Like a fractured bone in the ribs, the heart can be painfully heavy sometimes.

Perhaps I mistook the pain with work in progress.

When I say I love you, I mean something raw something below the surface of all waters; something almost too naked and true!

Like her name, some people are best left scrouged on the skin.

I’ve been quiet most of today. By which I mean I can see myself in the mirror; And believe me it is something hard to look at these days.

I guess you’re the bee and the stings all at once; By which I mean you’re the reason I wrap these tired bones around every aching thing.

In the end the salt calls the ocean home; and I guess this is why drowning has always been a part of loving you.

I guess this has been my confusion; where I went wrong. Thinking that love could possibly come as a thing without the burns.

To me there was only ever you!

I knew you would leave someday; And from there a poet will be born from the ashes.

Love is a job doer and a man slayer. Both equally efficient, until the taste of it is most felt on the cold side of the ribs.

There’s not much I know about forgetting. By which I mean I can hear her name from a distance; and it still breathes cold in my chest.

When you’re feeling exhausted and completely out of breath, turn and fall into his arms and you will find your rest.

How mundane it is for us to realize that we are all breathing under the same sky.

CO2 is the exhaling breath of our civilization, literally… Changing that pattern requires a scope, a scale, a speed of change that is beyond what we have done in the past.

Prayer shouldn’t be casual or sporadic, dictated only by the needs of the moment. Prayer should be as much a part of our lives as breathing.

In the end, it all comes down to the art of breathing.

When I’m with you, I don’t breathe quite right.

You might as well try to hear without ears or breathe without lungs, as to try to live a Christian life without the Spirit of God in your heart.

Let your new self breathe.