“You won’t heal your heart by rushing it.”

We grow by being present, not by being perfection.

Get rid of the idea that your healing is tied to someone else’s apology.

Teach boys that manhood is not determined by how often they hold back their tears.

If they don’t value you, someone else will.

Growth often looks like out growing old patterns and good people.

You always feeling inadequate, if the world decides your worth.

You and I are shades of beauty from the same sky.

Loss teaches us that life is fragile and love is worth the chase.

Let pride go, to let love in.

Hope is on the horizon, we just have to look up.

We do not win external wars by denying internal battles.

The time to bet on yourself is now.

Teach young girls that their beauty is only a fraction of who they are.

You are not obligated to pay attention to things that threaten your peace.

Check out on social media. Check in on your mental health.

Gratitude is just as powerful as grief, and no season is ever wasted.

There’s a constant battle of me and healing; all of which still sits burning and intricately perplexed in ink.

Darling, it’s okay to fall again; these bones of yours they already know how to mend.

All the animals, the plants, the minerals, even other kinds of men, are being broken and reassembled every day, to preserve an elite few, who are the loudest to theorize on freedom, but the least free of all.

Tears are quick to dry and certain pains never heal, sometimes what she says hides more than it reveals.

Time heals but only when nourished with love. The only possible cure for heart break is to love again.

After healing I’ll run back to her – of course this poem demands a brutal ending!

I take personal responsibility. I heal myself. I forgive myself.

Love hurts; love heals too.