“I want love to be the altar of these earthly days.”

I hope I never see you in my rear-view, I hope you stay on the horizon.

The road’s been long but I made it to you.

You were never my love story, you were always hers.

Your hands don’t feel like home anymore and it’s breaking my heart.

We are all just wanting bones and stardust skin trying to find our way home.

We will always be an open ending, a beautiful perhaps.

I am sad about the things I did to make you want me.

She built her castle at rock bottom.

I am terrified that I am destined for almost.

I am messy when I am in pain.

I dream of all the places we never made it to.

There is something extraordinary in this space between our skin.

In another life, you kept your word, and forever’s still ours for the taking.

I am not proud of the things I did when I was hurting.

How can I be homesick for a life I haven’t lived?

You were a beautiful chapter, but not my last.

I am a lover of truth, a worshipper of freedom, a celebrant at the altar of language and purity and tolerance.