“When the moonlight is kind enough to illuminate your darkness. How can you ever say you are lonely?”

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.

Choose to soften. Again and again and again. Despite, despite, despite.

Those who are unkind to themselves will not appreciate your kindness. Do it anyway.

I know our bodies were engagement in the act of sex. But did you hear how loudly our souls were making music?

Glass can shatter, yet still be created into nothing short of art. And so can you.

Knowing your own darkness is the best method for dealing with the darknesses of other people.

The darkest night is ignorance.

We are not here to curse the darkness, but to light the candle that can guide us through that darkness to a safe and sane future.

Every man is two men; one is awake in the darkness, the other asleep in the light.

Those who are unaware they are walking in darkness will never seek the light.

For each of us as women, there is a dark place within, where hidden and growing our true spirit rises, beautiful and tough as chestnut stanchions against our nightmare of weakness.

Outside of a dog, a book is man’s best friend. Inside of a dog it’s too dark to read.

If there is always light, you don’t experience light anymore. You have to have the rhythm of light and darkness.