black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

Underneath the stars, the weight of living dissolves – releases, breathes, be.

Jessica Wilde

I chip and carve until I’m a corpse – a bone with no marrow, or a sparrow without wings, a vein without wings, a vein without blood, a puppet with no strings.
JESSICA WILDE

Blood Bone Death Myself Wings
A wooded winter trail awaits, no footprints pressed upon the snow – a path I dared not once to take but now – I must go.
JESSICA WILDE

Await Dare Myself Snow Winter
My mind is not my own. I don’t recognize her when I am alone.
JESSICA WILDE

Alone Depression Mindset Myself Recognition
Here I am again, chasing shadows, as if I’m peter pan convincing Wendy not to grow up – I’m waiting for you in the between place. Dreaming and never quite awake.
JESSICA WILDE

Awake Chase Dreams Grow Up Place Quite Shadow
Loving you is like breathing in freshly fallen snow-baptized mornings.
JESSICA WILDE

Breathe Love Morning Snow Yourself
I know I haven’t told you, but I also know, that you’ve felt my love.
JESSICA WILDE

Feeling Known Love Yourself
You hold a piece of me I will never get back. Be even tender.
JESSICA WILDE

Hold Pieces Return Yourself
I learned all about love from people that didn’t know how to love me.
JESSICA WILDE

Learning Love Myself People
Fireside and free, tangled up in curiosity, dripping in holy honesty, drawing in pure ecstasy, exploring possibilities – a cabin in the woods.
JESSICA WILDE

Curiosity Explore Freedom Honesty Possible Wood
And the world seems just a little bit warmer, and the sun shines slightly brighter than it used to, and the days pass differently than before, and time is no longer stuck in a loop.
JESSICA WILDE

Bright Different Shine Sun Time Warm World
What do you do, when all the loves you’ve ever known have only been paper moons?
JESSICA WILDE

Love Moon Paper Yourself
Cider and candor and cranberry kisses, firelight dancing – lowered inhibitions, our eyes caught up in intimate moments, soaking in these cinnamon-spiced secrets.
JESSICA WILDE

Dance Eyes Intimate Light Moments Ourselves Secret
Wouldn’t it be enchanting if pixie dust and fairy wings could fix all our broken dreams?
JESSICA WILDE

Break Dreams Enchant Ourselves Wings
I’m half agony, half hope – like I’m a freshly cut bone, like the last stone that was held – then not thrown, like a garden where inspiration roots but never grows.
JESSICA WILDE

Agony Garden Growth Hope Myself Stone
I love you – like a lighthouse and the sea, like mountaintops and valleys, like how the sun breathes life into leaves without even touching.
JESSICA WILDE

Breath I Love You Leave Life Light Sun Touch
Lost journals are steps back home, like the mending of broken bones, like scars that act as patches to my soul, like the measurement marks on my mother’s wall that show just how much I’ve grown.
JESSICA WILDE

Growth Home Journal Lost Mark Measurement Mom Myself Scars Wall

Underneath the stars, the weight of living dissolves – releases, breathes, be.

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Underneath the stars, the weight of living dissolves – releases, breathes, be.

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Popular Authors

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