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.
HANNAH PEARLIf y’all like spooky season just examine my brain. It’s plastered across this page on display.
More Hannah Pearl Quotes
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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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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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Write me as if I were already a poem. Pen the stanzas as if storms and ships could birth something sacred. Color it a religious experience.
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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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I waited, quietly listened, cupped my ear to your mouth, but silence echoed grievously in the absence of sound. It was only warm breath and then emptiness.
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I am hurting. I am angry. I am one hundred and thirty-two synonyms of regret, but atleast its proof that I was here.
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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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What an intimidating kind of beauty a rainbow holds. Then of course, there’s the jealously dripping between vampirish teeth of those who dare mock it.
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Don’t bother finding a soulmate. Your aunt tells you, your fluffy scrambled eggs are the best she’s had and dammit, you can enjoy those all by yourself. No need to share the wealth.
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Indigo child, you hid secret under graves, picked at the lamb stuck between teeth, felt around for monsters we once reaped. But the monster turned out to be free.
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It wasn’t enough fading under surfaces, below waves, swollen pufferfish retracting this inflated love that not even you could believe in.
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Caution! This vehicle stops quite frequently when overwhelmed.
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If I had a wishing well, I’d wish you well. That the skies hold the key to all you’ve ever wanted, with or without me.
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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 wish I could bottle up this scent for winter days when it feels like this town will never see sun again.
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You will be the ocean. Strong enough to tighten the sails and safe enough to jump ship for.
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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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Your voice causes a power surge that courses through the veins, feeds off bones, minors in replay.
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You have always been enough. Allow yourself to finally feel it.
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The moon may bring peace, but the sun, she offers resilience.
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Love is believable. I reckon I’ll just see it when I see it.
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If y’all like spooky season just examine my brain. It’s plastered across this page on display.
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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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Your words once a melody, now read like an obituary.
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You ever stare at something so long the colors blend together? Even the most neutral tones take on a life of their own, fold themselves into shapes that morph into creatures – wolves and goblin.
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And when I walk alone, I speak in deaf tones. I’m screaming and no one knows, no one knows. No one pays attention to where the sound goes.
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