What an intimidating kind of beauty a rainbow holds. Then of course, there’s the jealously dripping between vampirish teeth of those who dare mock it.
HANNAH PEARLRemember me in burnt coffee mornings, warm hugs, fresh sunday snow. Know that you loved me too cautiously.
More Hannah Pearl Quotes
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I haven’t wept for days, only shuffling feet, carrying weights, ignoring the pain, numbing the face. Its all a charade.
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My god is a moment, a whimsical idea, a whisper. A hope bending itself into a prayer.
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If I had a wishing well, I’d wish you well. That the skies hold the key to all you’ve ever wanted, with or without me.
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The hardest part is when the leaves abandon the trees. I seem to always lose a part of me.
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You ever stare at something so long the colors blend together? Even the most neutral tones take on a life of their own, fold themselves into shapes that morph into creatures – wolves and goblin.
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Love is believable. I reckon I’ll just see it when I see it.
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You are worthy of feeling incredibly and unapologetically alive.
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What a shame – how the taste of you could rot even the cedar and cypress. How you fooled the redwood into believing narcissus’ pond was made for two.
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I miss you a little less each day. You’re just a faded memory now – delicate; tucked away.
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It wasn’t enough fading under surfaces, below waves, swollen pufferfish retracting this inflated love that not even you could believe in.
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Your voice causes a power surge that courses through the veins, feeds off bones, minors in replay.
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There’s a mystery in you; a puzzle to solve- mystical elements to a love that you’ve longingly ached for.
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Caution! This vehicle stops quite frequently when overwhelmed.
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Some days, my mind still flickers, but the light doesn’t stay on. Kind of like the hope I felt when your fingers squeezed my palm. But they simply call that a reflex.
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I’m used to falling, calling out timber right before the impact.
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If I’m wrong about you, let’s face it instead of fading like tire marks swallowed by rain. Run me into the midst of a storm. Leave me to drown there.
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I wait and wait and wait and god I am sick of waiting. To not see your face anymore. To not know the burden that belongs to you. To not imagine the window I looked through the night I found out.
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I’m from a state that houses too many cornfields and a town that no one takes seriously- in a home where glass cuts hurt less than deeply wounded words.
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I’ve been afraid to look at the woman in the mirror. Everyday she looks less and less like me. It makes me wonder if I’ll ever find my way back home.
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Write me as if I were already a poem. Pen the stanzas as if storms and ships could birth something sacred. Color it a religious experience.
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And when I walk alone, I speak in deaf tones. I’m screaming and no one knows, no one knows. No one pays attention to where the sound goes.
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Your words once a melody, now read like an obituary.
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Your promises shatter like glass. Sliced nerves for every lie that travels from your tongue.
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You will be the ocean. Strong enough to tighten the sails and safe enough to jump ship for.
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You have always been enough. Allow yourself to finally feel it.
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It’s time for me to dust off this weary heart so that I may open it to one whose only open to me. You’re going to miss me when I’m gone and it’ll be too late.
HANNAH PEARL