“My entire life I’ve waited for a man to teach the world how to treat me and if he’d step in and convince them all.”

One tornado I lived through got the house.

The argentinian kisses me on a beach in tulum.

May my children never read this.

You’re rolling me in coffee hands I’m u-turn smoked rubber coming back- oh I’m spent, ask on the still.

When I reached for what I wanted, they said I left my needs behind. But if all birds need is on the ground why then do they fly?

Oh the salt water I had to sweat to realize there was an ocean inside of me.

I found my old diary tonight. A brokenness I had forgotten pen pressured so deep it punctured page. I ran my fingers over my words and there inside ridges black I found a little girl desperate for someone to save her, desperate for the very woman I have become.

This morning I tell the kindest man on earth after two dates, you are good and you are not my man. My man is not as good as you.

I know this won’t always be a good deal for me I make it anyway.

Don’t get too used to being alone.

I want to be in an Jane Austen novel with you.

God is a woman and like every woman has millions of years of men speaking for her.

I keep saying over and over. I’m sorry but I have to go now you are not my person.

I play with the nativity and tell mary she looks good in that color blue.

The day my children move out is years I can count on two hands I have them half this time years I count on one.

I took the bobblehead of him off his refrigerator and kissed it.

My view of life is, that it’s next to impossible to convince anybody of anything.

The older I get, the more convinced I am that the space between people who are trying their best to understand each other is hallowed ground.

A leader, once convinced a particular course of action is the right one, must have the determination to stick with it and be undaunted when the going gets tough.

None believes in his own death. In the unconscious everyone is convinced of his own immortality.

In the depths of my heart I can’t help being convinced that my dear fellow-men, with a few exceptions, are worthless.

Convinced myself, I seek not to convince.

At a time like this, scorching irony, not convincing argument, is needed.

It’s easier to fool people than to convince them that they have been fooled.