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.
HANNAH PEARLThe moon may bring peace, but the sun, she offers resilience.
More Hannah Pearl Quotes
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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.
HANNAH PEARL -
When 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.
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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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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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The moon may bring peace, but the sun, she offers resilience.
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If I’m wrong about you, let’s face it instead of fading like tire marks swallowed by rain. Run me into the midst of a storm. Leave me to drown there.
HANNAH PEARL -
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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Your promises shatter like glass. Sliced nerves for every lie that travels from your tongue.
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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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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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Love is believable. I reckon I’ll just see it when I see it.
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You have always been enough. Allow yourself to finally feel it.
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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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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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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.
HANNAH PEARL