“Spring blooms, even in places where life once ended.”

We all have a song, a place, and a person. – The unforgettable.

Sometimes strangers feel like home too.

We’ve never understood the hate you fear in us. Our love makes protests feel like celebrations.

Let’s close our eyes and chase the dreams the world insists are out of reach.

You’re an artist. Beauty grows in you.

Who will we be when we have healed?

In seeing wounds heal, I saw a body that loved itself enough to not let it hurt forever. And I learned. – my body knew self love before I did.

There are too many love songs, and they all sing about you.

Go where you just don’t know. That’s where the magic happens.

But people also leave when your love for them outgrows their love for themselves.

How many times have you reached an end of a story, only to find it was the turn of a page?

You didn’t break my heart, I did. It was the only way to let you out of it.

But for all the pounding in your chest, all the heart wants is a little love.

And the sun will rise to kiss you in all the ways they never could.

Even through the darkest night, know the world is moving towards dawn.

For better or worse, we all felt something together for once.

You, like nature again, will bloom again and change beautifully.

Bloom with your colors and fluttering wings of hope and smiles.

what is my poetry if not all of my sorrows blooming?

Your departure was like trusting the process of seasons. I never knew i’d bloom again after a terrible fall.

When we die plant us close so life grows from our love still. Even in death my chest will bloom for you.

Be proud of a body that bares the burden of being buried only to bloom.

Bloom for the bee, not for the hands that want to pluck you.

Today I am broken but tomorrow I will be gentle, I will be kind and i will bloom again.