I lace barbed wire around my heart, constrict it – pull tight, maybe the pain will make it feel alive, and I can pretend it didn’t already die.
JESSICA WILDELost 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.
More Jessica Wilde Quotes
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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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Wouldn’t it be enchanting if pixie dust and fairy wings could fix all our broken dreams?
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Loving you is like breathing in freshly fallen snow-baptized mornings.
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And the world seems just a little bit warmer, and the sun shines slightly brighter than it used to, and the days pass differently than before, and time is no longer stuck in a loop.
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You break everything you touch. Why was I surprised when you broke me too?
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You hold a piece of me I will never get back. Be even tender.
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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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Here I am again, chasing shadows, as if I’m peter pan convincing Wendy not to grow up – I’m waiting for you in the between place. Dreaming and never quite awake.
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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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What do you do, when all the loves you’ve ever known have only been paper moons?
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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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I am swept beneath your current – it pulls me in, and I don’t even try to swim.
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Those closest to me. Didn’t know the true state of my mentality.
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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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Underneath the stars, the weight of living dissolves – releases, breathes, be.
JESSICA WILDE