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

It was an adventure, wasn’t it? You and I.

Mortgages, marriage, and kids are not life’s only meaningful milestones.

She had a smile that took me to church every damn night.

How sad it is that you have become something I need to recover from.

Too many broken forevers and tired bones.

She gave me a feeling I knew I would spend the rest of my life chasing.

Some of my best and most glorious love stories are friendships.

I am so sick of missing what was never mine.

Our souls are old friends.

The sun is setting, life is shifting, and this skin is ready.

There is still so much light left in us.

What once felt like heartbreak now feels like divine intervention.

Silence and inaction breed injustice.

I wonder if we ever grieve what was at the same time?

And maybe I’ll find you again, on the next big adventure.

After all this time forever still looks like you.

I need a house, full of books, devoid of heartaches.

It breaks my heart in half watching your spirit fall. So when the light is fading, can I be the one you call?

Discovering more joy does not, save us from the inevitability of hardship and heartbreak.

Houses built on heartbreak is that what you call love.

And its true I needed you to break my heart to become somewhat of a poet.

We have hardship without becoming hard. We have heartbreaks without being broken.

Like the mountain, she rises above every challenge, every mistake, every heartbreak.

Ask me about the time you broke my heart and I’ll tell you how I put it back together again.