“And perhaps the greatest paradox of all is how we stand here, fully wounded yet never more alive.”

You told me everything would be okay. I wish you had said – you’ll hurt but I’ll hold you.

I do not write. My lungs just breathe in words.

What it all comes down to either way, is if you are ready.

I will tremble. But that is not to say I am not brave.

I don’t like to be called strong. I am just a weak with a side of faith.

I would rather have peaceful isolation than divided freedom. Read that again.

These times are wild but so are we.

I never loved you because you had it all together. I loved you because you were falling apart and still saw fit to let me into your world.

I am not the kind of lost that needs finding. I am the kind of lost that needs healing.

I learned the hard way that not everything in life was meant to be beautiful.

I wasn’t running away from you. I was running towards myself.

An empath does not sleep. She listens to the wind and wonders if its crying.

Maybe we needed a storm, to miss the peace a little. Maybe we needed the shadows, to remember our beautiful light.

If you only stand for something until it gets uncomfortable, then you never really stood at all.

You are the only song I know all the words to.

How tremendously brave to be shattered in a way that makes stained-glass windows from the pain.