“I unravel my future as I weave it with my past.”

You can make my chest swell with joy and cave with pain but peace is something I taught myself. Chest swelling chest caving with each new breath of fresh air.

You can love the way you look but still hate the way you are.

I find it so much harder to breathe when I’m fighting with you. You are my air and your love is my life force.

Be patient without being blind. Wait for what is worth waiting for but don’t wait for what’s not there.

Be an artist in a world of content creators.

Curves on a body are invitations to desire. Embrace them wherever they are.

Reserve the language of sculpture for the art of sculpture. Lest you confuse beauty with the shape of a jaw or art with the size of a stomach.

My hands reached your body like braille, and your curves and edges tell a story of beauty and grace.

Your trauma doesn’t build character, it builds a wall around you.

What good is forever when all we have is now?

Grief is a love preservative. My heart is a jar. My blood is the brine. The memory of you I steal inside.

Don’t ever think I am fragile because I asked you to handle me with care. It was not a plea, it was a warning. My strength keeps me safe but I can’t say the same for you.

In leaving me you turned of the future into a creature of the past.

These secrets sit sourly on my tongue. They linger the longer I go without a sip of your sweet elixir.

How exhausting it must be to fear death, when you can simply howl at the moon.

Your lips I see they without from me, but your eyes can’t keep a secret.