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.
JESSICA WILDEExpanding like the universe, I discovered galaxies within. To break glass ceilings: Breath in trust, exhale doubt-beckon bravery.
More Jessica Wilde Quotes
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You break everything you touch. Why was I surprised when you broke me too?
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Today, cold seeps from my insides out, the frigid rain warm on my skin.
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I simply cannot hold onto hope, it aches like possibilities never reached, I’m bubbling over with grief – this chaos has caused so much loss and fatigue.
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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 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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I’m half agony, half hope – like I’m a freshly cut bone, like the last stone that was held – then not thrown, like a garden where inspiration roots but never grows.
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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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I learned all about love from people that didn’t know how to love me.
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I am fierce yet fragile – cradle me with care, I can shred your soul, light you on fire, or send you into the dark abyss – the difference between us is – I wouldn’t dare.
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Misty morning welcomes me as I wander through the trees – calm amidst the chaos of distant memories.
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I hear your voice say my name and my soul melts slow, I’m a helpless mess.
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A wooded winter trail awaits, no footprints pressed upon the snow – a path I dared not once to take but now – I must go.
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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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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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What do you do, when all the loves you’ve ever known have only been paper moons?
JESSICA WILDE