“I want love to be the altar of these earthly days.”

We are all just wanting bones and stardust skin trying to find our way home.

We will always be an open ending, a beautiful perhaps.

I am sad about the things I did to make you want me.

She built her castle at rock bottom.

I am terrified that I am destined for almost.

I am messy when I am in pain.

I dream of all the places we never made it to.

There is something extraordinary in this space between our skin.

In another life, you kept your word, and forever’s still ours for the taking.

I am not proud of the things I did when I was hurting.

How can I be homesick for a life I haven’t lived?

You were a beautiful chapter, but not my last.

It was an adventure, wasn’t it? You and I.

Mortgages, marriage, and kids are not life’s only meaningful milestones.

She had a smile that took me to church every damn night.

How sad it is that you have become something I need to recover from.

I am a lover of truth, a worshipper of freedom, a celebrant at the altar of language and purity and tolerance.