“Release the things that no longer serve you like the petals of a flower. It will seed your life with new growth and you will bloom again.”

You are whole and complete all on your own everything you need is within you peel away the layers come home.

My eyes, finally conscious of the truth that is, now see unclouded.

Why do I paint a happy face every single holiday when they are a stinging reminder of what and who is absent.

Listen to the heart to its beat in time words are no match for what is spoken in the heart’s rhyme.

Friendships exist in the fluctuations between acceptance and rejection.

I want to be loved so I try to be you then I realize what I see in you is in the mirror looking back at me.

All this time I knew I needed some really good therapy and I found it —in poetry.

I remind myself what I desire in another is myself undiscovered.

I am both mud and lotus but, my love you only see the mud.

Our lives are now changed forced anew we start again it’s all we can do.

Through poems, I speak the language of my soul and the emotions of my body onto paper.

Being an empath is a gift – at the same time, you also carry the weight of the world.

My love you are, magic in the mountains moonlight on the meadow mantras at midnight, and molecules of my heart.

The fabric of your life is a beautiful tapestry of contrast.

Finding my way back to myself one day at a time.

How can you be so unconditional when I speak of my dreams but yet so conditional in your love for me.

When a bud breaks it becomes a flower, when a heart breaks it becomes divine.

I think people need to be educated to the fact that marijuana is not a drug. Marijuana is an herb and a flower. God put it here. If He put it here and He wants it to grow, what gives the government the right to say that God is wrong?

Where soil is, men grow, Whether to weeds or flowers.

She tasted like wildflowers; crushed, wet wild flowers carried in sticky palms through farmers’ fields, just before dawn.

Shed no tear – O, shed no tear! The flower will bloom another year. Weep no more – O, weep no more! Young buds sleep in the root’s white core.

Don’t bring her dead flowers, take her to where the flowers live.

She might look like a fragile flower, but her stem is made of steel.

The fragrance of flowers spreads only in the direction of the wind. But the goodness of a person spreads in all direction.