“I want to be something to pray for but I don’t know how to be.”

Your heartbeat is a holy thing.

How do you mourn the loss of someone who was never yours to begin with?

And what am I but the smallest of footnotes in the universe’s everlasting memoir?

This country collects too many tongues, until our only language is silence.

I don’t know how to let you out without destroying us both.

Seek refuge in the space between my bones.

Somewhere inside my throat lives your ache.

I like to trace the ghosts of your fingers on the back of my hand. They read- I don’t know how to hold without you.

I pocket grief and it beckons me like a lover.

My silhouette is an ocean, your lips a sailor.

There is a calmness in not knowing.

Every beauty mark, a country to roam. Every stretch mark, a river to cross.

I loved you in quiet because to hide is to pretend that it is okay.

Allow me to introduce myself, A warning and a welcoming all at once.

We are so much more than skin can hold.

When I look in the mirror, I don’t see a poem.

Imagine the unknown of what the beings around you cover up and struggle with everyday.

You don’t have to know everything or figure out everything. Be comfortable in not knowing all the answers.

To know means to know all. Not to know all means not to know. In order to know all, it is only necessary to know a little. But, in order to know this little, it is first necessary to know pretty much.

Awakening begins when a man realizes that he is going nowhere and does not know where to go.

The human face is as strange to me as a countenance, which, the more one looks at it, the more it closes itself off and escapes by the steps of unknown stairways.

In these matters the only certainty is that nothing is certain.

Women love only those whom they do not know!

Women only love those that they don’t know.