“I see myself through your eyes and I love what I see. So please never look way.”

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.

The fear that I would one day run out of things to say to you became the hope that soon I can sit in silence with you.

You met me whole and left me broken.

I don’t need you to myself in order to love you as my own.