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.
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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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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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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The moon may bring peace, but the sun, she offers resilience.
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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.
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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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The hardest part is when the leaves abandon the trees. I seem to always lose a part of me.
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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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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.
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You have always been enough. Allow yourself to finally feel it.
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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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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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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 PEARL -
Your words once a melody, now read like an obituary.
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Remember me in burnt coffee mornings, warm hugs, fresh sunday snow. Know that you loved me too cautiously.
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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.
HANNAH PEARL