“The shelter is where I am when I am with myself.”

My heart is my muse my blood is my ink my pain is my pen my words are my healing.

Why do I push up against the ones who will not have me like a wave pushing its way on the sand when my people are in the ocean and we naturally flow to protect each other.

Authenticity feels like the glue that has put me back together I feel whole and aligned in every word.

Release the person’s place thought-feeling.

I will always meet you with kindness.

I still have hope that one day someone will love all of me – from the hallelujahs right down to the hallows.

You took my heart, hope, love, and trust when you left but you gave me good poetry.

You are whole and complete all on your own everything you need is within you peel away the layers come home.

My eyes, finally conscious of the truth that is, now see unclouded.

Why do I paint a happy face every single holiday when they are a stinging reminder of what and who is absent.

Listen to the heart to its beat in time words are no match for what is spoken in the heart’s rhyme.

Friendships exist in the fluctuations between acceptance and rejection.

I want to be loved so I try to be you then I realize what I see in you is in the mirror looking back at me.

All this time I knew I needed some really good therapy and I found it —in poetry.

I remind myself what I desire in another is myself undiscovered.

Release the things that no longer serve you like the petals of a flower. It will seed your life with new growth and you will bloom again.

I’m not the boss of my house. I don’t know how I lost it, I don’t know when I lost it, I don’t really think I ever had it. But I’ve seen the boss’s job and I don’t want it!

By practicing meditation we establish love, compassion, sympathetic joy & equanimity as our home.

I finally decided to give music my all. If it didn’t work out and I had to move home, fine. I had to give it 100% first.

I don’t hate anything about Texas. I love my state. I love my area. It’s like home.

My mom was an executive at AT&T, a global account lady. I have no idea what she did. I just know she was never home and speaks several languages.

Who else gotta stop at every mirror in the house.

Growing up with a house full of women and seeing them look good no matter what they put on every morning just inspired me to look good myself.

If we assume man has been corrupted by an artificial civilization, what is the natural state? the state of nature from which he has been removed? imagine, wandering up and down the forest without industry, without speech, and without home.