Misty morning welcomes me as I wander through the trees – calm amidst the chaos of distant memories.
JESSICA WILDEWhen 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.
More Jessica Wilde Quotes
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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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You break everything you touch. Why was I surprised when you broke me too?
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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.
JESSICA WILDE -
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.
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You were refreshing. Your idea of love infused me with hope and joy.
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Underneath the stars, the weight of living dissolves – releases, breathes, be.
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I learned all about love from people that didn’t know how to love me.
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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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I lace barbed wire around my heart, constrict it – pull tight, maybe the pain will make it feel alive, and I can pretend it didn’t already die.
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Time aches- my words break as if they’re the wings of a captured butterfly as if they’re the seconds that keep ticking by as if they’re embers that refuse to ignite.
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Those closest to me. Didn’t know the true state of my mentality.
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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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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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Wouldn’t it be enchanting if pixie dust and fairy wings could fix all our broken dreams?
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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.
JESSICA WILDE