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 PEARLI’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.
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.
HANNAH PEARL -
You are worthy of feeling incredibly and unapologetically alive.
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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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I’m used to falling, calling out timber right before the impact.
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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.
HANNAH PEARL -
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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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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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 miss you a little less each day. You’re just a faded memory now – delicate; tucked away.
HANNAH PEARL -
Your words once a melody, now read like an obituary.
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If y’all like spooky season just examine my brain. It’s plastered across this page on display.
HANNAH PEARL -
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.
HANNAH PEARL -
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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Your voice causes a power surge that courses through the veins, feeds off bones, minors in replay.
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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