Remember me in burnt coffee mornings, warm hugs, fresh sunday snow. Know that you loved me too cautiously.
HANNAH PEARLWhen words tripped off the side of your grin, I felt the statement slip toward my ear like the slide of a skateboard on griptape – how it led me to hate a sport I’ve never even tried.
More Hannah Pearl Quotes
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I’ve been afraid to look at the woman in the mirror. Everyday she looks less and less like me. It makes me wonder if I’ll ever find my way back home.
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Some days, my mind still flickers, but the light doesn’t stay on. Kind of like the hope I felt when your fingers squeezed my palm. But they simply call that a reflex.
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My god is a moment, a whimsical idea, a whisper. A hope bending itself into a prayer.
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Needle in a haystack, a small town on a roadmap, searching for you through the abstract- how incredibly hard to find.
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I’m from a state that houses too many cornfields and a town that no one takes seriously- in a home where glass cuts hurt less than deeply wounded words.
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Your promises shatter like glass. Sliced nerves for every lie that travels from your tongue.
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The hardest part is when the leaves abandon the trees. I seem to always lose a part of me.
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What a shame – how the taste of you could rot even the cedar and cypress. How you fooled the redwood into believing narcissus’ pond was made for two.
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Caution! This vehicle stops quite frequently when overwhelmed.
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I haven’t wept for days, only shuffling feet, carrying weights, ignoring the pain, numbing the face. Its all a charade.
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I wait and wait and wait and god I am sick of waiting. To not see your face anymore. To not know the burden that belongs to you. To not imagine the window I looked through the night I found out.
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There’s a mystery in you; a puzzle to solve- mystical elements to a love that you’ve longingly ached for.
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I hide behind olive branches. So afraid of others knowing what lay beneath the broken rifle. The reality hitting the pavement like bullets that stem from war.
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You have always been enough. Allow yourself to finally feel it.
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It’s time for me to dust off this weary heart so that I may open it to one whose only open to me. You’re going to miss me when I’m gone and it’ll be too late.
HANNAH PEARL