“More breath than mind. More moon silk than sunbeam. More bone than break.”

You reach a dangerous level of independence the moment you realize you are beating.

If you are in need of a safety net-sit with your own heartbeat for a little while.

Fear creates space for creativity. Love creates space for healing.

Never be afraid to fall apart in front of the stars. They do not twinkle with judgment.

My body has forgotten what my own warmth feels like and the ice on my skin has frost bitten all those who have tried to hold me.

I am learning to forgive all those who are not sorry.

Is there another human out there made from the same lightening as me that I have crashed into yet?

I stepped into love with grace. I stepped out of love with grace. The beginning was beautiful. The ending was beautiful.

The irony of crashing into me is I will show you what safety looks like.

The truth is your skin was my skin and shedding you is not an easy process.

Look how wildflowers bloom from your skin. So why hold back those tears when your soil needs them?

My head screamed. I want to make them burn the way they did to me. My heart cried that’s not who you are.

Don’t strive to become more. Strive to become whole.

You were so gentle with my messy burdens, my tender wounds and the cracks in my broken soul that I became gentle with them, too.

I am mystic bones and a curious heart. Pain and joy and stardust skin. A sacred soul container. Time and space and matter and illusion. Expansion and contraction. A breathing universe.

I can feel hope beginning to sprout from all parts of me that were once punctured.

Everything I know of love is told in the bruises we left on each other.

I know you will take the last of me and I will love you anyway.

I don’t know how else to say it. I will love you for the rest of my life.

The surface of American society is covered with a layer of democratic paint, but from time to time one can see the old aristocratic colours breaking through.

There’s a weight to it, this missing you.

We built futures I’ll never get to visit. But I still have to watch them crumble.

My life has crept so long on a broken wing Through cells of madness, haunts of horror and fear, That I come to be grateful at last for a little thing.

If this love is going to break me, at least make my suffering sweet. I want to know what you taste like in sweltering summer heat.