“Love doesn’t hurt us people do.”

My roots touched mother earth and she blessed me with her color. Brown skin is beautiful.

Each kiss is my slice of heaven on earth.

My appetite for life has returned.

Eyes closed, hearts open. Vulnerable, I surrender. Trust fall, please catch me.

My flowers rot beneath my bed. I was too selfish to part with them. I hope their deaths don’t bring hexes. Did I say flowers? I meant my exes.

He pondered, what would make them believe in me? And God created women.

Honey, you are a rose.

A creature lives deep within, rotting far beneath my skin. Touch the pain inside of me, just to let my heart be free.

I was born from nature therefore, I am art.

For my own sanity, I must love myself in an obsessive and urgent manner. My life depends on it. I am healing.

With all the secrets and lies you keep. Your beauty is only skin deep. Vamp.

Everything intensifies during a full moon. Your edge creeps up slowly on the awaiting shore.

Because of her, I know unconditional love. Because of him, I have learned to forgive. Life lessons from mom and dad.

If I can inhale I can speak up.

I am filled with mirth at my own rebirth.

Leave all hurt in the past to let love in. Hopeful. Don’t block your blessings.

I just do what I want to do without hurting other people and you know, I wish other people would do the same.

The darkness that surrounds us cannot hurt us. It is the darkness in your own heart you should fear.

It’s not easy that everything you do, everybody has to come in and critique it and give their opinion. Sometimes it does help me and sometimes it hurts me as a person. That’s life. I have feelings.

Martial arts is not for hurting people, it’s for protecting people.

I’m the most uncoordinated clumsy, klutzy person. I always had a bruise, I always tripped and fell.

We hurt people by being too busy. Too busy to notice their needs. Too busy to drop that note of comfort or encouragement or assurance of love. Too busy to listen when someone needs to talk. Too busy to care.

A sharp knife cuts the quickest and hurts the least.

And perhaps the greatest paradox of all is how we stand here, fully wounded yet never more alive.