“And maybe my arms have grown too tired to hold this but my eyes will never stop searching for miracles.”

Learning to save some love for yourself has to start somewhere. What better time than now?

You will never learn to fly by ripping off someone’s wings.

I have feared change for so long, but the horizon changes all the time and there is still so much beauty under different skies.

I have found that pain has a habit of planting roots in beautiful hearts.

Sometimes i get lost in the forest while the rest of the world sleeps. But i don’t mind. You give me something to come back to.

Into the soft sand I will carve your name and let the ocean steal what little remains.

We were a storm that couldn’t decide where to let the rain fall. I never wanted to let go and you didn’t know how to stop.

Oh, how beautifully you will bloom again.

Nothing grows from spreading hate, You’ll find that out quite soon. But plant some love within its place, the world will surely bloom.

The wild is always changing like a reminder. You do not have to be the same to be beautiful.

Watching the sun rise again over the rooftops i whisper the things i wish would come back, too. Like hope like happiness like you.

Don’t you understand? I do not want you to fight for me. I do not want this to feel like a war.

And sometimes I think I could touch the sky because these hands were made to reach and this heart was built to survive.

Some pain stays but we learn to carry it.

I am always trying to be more than I am instead of remembering that what I am is more than enough.

We broke away from each other like clouds after a storm. But the sun never reappeared for me and I don’t know what to do with all this rain.

And again I’m in your arms. Searching your skin for some small comfort. Your touch, this time, is love’s purest tender. Your hold, for now, is a fortress I feel safe in. Maybe, once more, I can call your body home.

How can I let you go when my heart rests so peacefully in your arms.

Let your first interest be in your home. The baby you hold in your arms will grow quickly as the sunrise and the sunset of the rushing days.

The mystery of God hugs you in its all-encompassing arms.

If you cannot hold me in your arms, then hold my memory in high regard. And if I cannot be in your life, then at least let me live in your heart.

The most foolish mistake we could possibly make would be to allow the subjugated races to possess arms.

And I would lie on your chest for hours and dream about the world in your arms but your thoughts were in another world.

We have a tendency to fall for broken things thinking we can fix them What if we just gathered all the pieces into our arms and loved them just as they are?