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 WILDEThose closest to me. Didn’t know the true state of my mentality.
More Jessica Wilde Quotes
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Cider and candor and cranberry kisses, firelight dancing – lowered inhibitions, our eyes caught up in intimate moments, soaking in these cinnamon-spiced secrets.
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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.
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I am swept beneath your current – it pulls me in, and I don’t even try to swim.
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You were refreshing. Your idea of love infused me with hope and joy.
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Loving you is like breathing in freshly fallen snow-baptized mornings.
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I learned all about love from people that didn’t know how to love me.
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You hold a piece of me I will never get back. Be even tender.
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Those closest to me. Didn’t know the true state of my mentality.
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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.
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Lavender lullabies whispered into night skies, remnants of galaxies cradled closely, as you sleep sweetly, time slips away and so do I.
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The sea calls to me – she promises to set me free, it’s tempting- losing myself in her vastness allowing her to swallow me whole, beckoning me to make her deep darkness my forever home.
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When winter withers – my bones begin to thaw, my lungs crackle as they expand, and the blood in my veins start to flow and I awaken from hibernation – hungry for happiness and eager to let go.
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I hear your voice say my name and my soul melts slow, I’m a helpless mess.
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When rules don’t make sense, ask questions, break barriers, rise above it all.
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Wouldn’t it be enchanting if pixie dust and fairy wings could fix all our broken dreams?
JESSICA WILDE