black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

It is beneath pale blue skies, amongst sycamore trees, and afoot dirtied leaves, my heart, and soul finds peace.

Olivia Clifford

My thoughts are like whiskey – one shot and I’m left with a bitter taste in my mouth.
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Mouth Myself Taste Whiskey
Quiet, that’s how I go when there’s a lot to say.
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Quiet Talk
It is beneath pale blue skies, amongst sycamore trees, and afoot dirtied leaves, my heart, and soul finds peace.
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Heart Myself Peace Sky Soul Tree
Who knew feeling hollow could be so heavy.
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Deep Feeling Shallow
Sometimes I lay down at night and wonder if it’s time to lay down my life.
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Death Life Myself Night Time
Don’t let this dissipate. Don’t let this evaporate into thin air. Don’t let this go.
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Hold On Inspirational
Your essence, so pure. Even from across the room. I want to savor every last drop. Maybe you could heal the devil in me.
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Devil Healing Pieces Relationship Yourself
It’s strange where we find ourselves years after being in a completely different place.
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Different Ourselves Place Strange
Listen to the silence it will speak to you in a way that no amount of chaos and noise ever could.
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Philosophy Silence Yourself
The adult heart beats differently.
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Different Heart
I am full to the brim with words. A message in a bottle lost at the sea. Yearning to reach the shore of poetry.
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Lost Poetry Sea Word
Fire and rain; we either drown or we burn.
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Burn Rain
And with the wind in her hair and defiance in her heart, she puts one foot in front of the other and walks into the unknown.
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Heart Herself Inspirational Strength Walk
Time passes. But pieces of my heart remain in the moments of the past ignited the colors of my soul.
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Heart Myself Past Pieces Soul Time
Run free little soul. You were never meant to be constrained.
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Freedom Run Soul Yourself
The lone wolf inside her howls at the moon; pleading with the night to guide her home.
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Herself Home Lonely Moon Night Wolf

It is beneath pale blue skies, amongst sycamore trees, and afoot dirtied leaves, my heart, and soul finds peace.

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It is beneath pale blue skies, amongst sycamore trees, and afoot dirtied leaves, my heart, and soul finds peace.

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Popular Authors

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