Those closest to me. Didn’t know the true state of my mentality.
JESSICA WILDEFireside and free, tangled up in curiosity, dripping in holy honesty, drawing in pure ecstasy, exploring possibilities – a cabin in the woods.
More Jessica Wilde Quotes
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When winter withers – my bones begin to thaw, my lungs crackle as they expand, and the blood in my veins start to flow and I awaken from hibernation – hungry for happiness and eager to let go.
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I know I haven’t told you, but I also know, that you’ve felt my love.
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Lost journals are steps back home, like the mending of broken bones, like scars that act as patches to my soul, like the measurement marks on my mother’s wall that show just how much I’ve grown.
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Your laughter sounds like a galactic symphony, your eyes shine magic like Saturn’s rings, and your golden hair flares like the sun. I smile as I rock the universe to sleep and sing of stars that twinkle deep within your dreams.
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Today, cold seeps from my insides out, the frigid rain warm on my skin.
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Loving you is like breathing in freshly fallen snow-baptized mornings.
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When rules don’t make sense, ask questions, break barriers, rise above it all.
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The sea calls to me – she promises to set me free, it’s tempting- losing myself in her vastness allowing her to swallow me whole, beckoning me to make her deep darkness my forever home.
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I learned all about love from people that didn’t know how to love me.
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I am swept beneath your current – it pulls me in, and I don’t even try to swim.
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Fireside and free, tangled up in curiosity, dripping in holy honesty, drawing in pure ecstasy, exploring possibilities – a cabin in the woods.
JESSICA WILDE -
Cider and candor and cranberry kisses, firelight dancing – lowered inhibitions, our eyes caught up in intimate moments, soaking in these cinnamon-spiced secrets.
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I love you – like a lighthouse and the sea, like mountaintops and valleys, like how the sun breathes life into leaves without even touching.
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I chip and carve until I’m a corpse – a bone with no marrow, or a sparrow without wings, a vein without wings, a vein without blood, a puppet with no strings.
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My mind is not my own. I don’t recognize her when I am alone.
JESSICA WILDE






