Your voice causes a power surge that courses through the veins, feeds off bones, minors in replay.
HANNAH PEARLI’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.
More Hannah Pearl Quotes
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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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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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If y’all like spooky season just examine my brain. It’s plastered across this page on display.
HANNAH PEARL -
Love is believable. I reckon I’ll just see it when I see it.
HANNAH PEARL -
The autumn breeze carves out an ache in your memory.
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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.
HANNAH PEARL -
Remember me in burnt coffee mornings, warm hugs, fresh sunday snow. Know that you loved me too cautiously.
HANNAH PEARL -
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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Surely I could never be certain of how many stars I’ve counted in the sky or of how such tiny particles can be build into wild-eyed stories like Aquarius and Cassiopeia. I could read you as I would the constellations and never tire.
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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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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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Your words once a melody, now read like an obituary.
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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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Your promises shatter like glass. Sliced nerves for every lie that travels from your tongue.
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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