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Wouldn’t it be enchanting if pixie dust and fairy wings could fix all our broken dreams?

Jessica Wilde

My mind is not my own. I don’t recognize her when I am alone.
JESSICA WILDE

Alone Depression Mindset Myself Recognition
Misty morning welcomes me as I wander through the trees – calm amidst the chaos of distant memories.
JESSICA WILDE

Chaos Distant Memories Morning Welcome
Loving you is like breathing in freshly fallen snow-baptized mornings.
JESSICA WILDE

Breathe Love Morning Snow Yourself
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
Lavender lullabies whispered into night skies, remnants of galaxies cradled closely, as you sleep sweetly, time slips away and so do I.
JESSICA WILDE

Galaxy Myself Night Sky Time Whisper
I hear your voice say my name and my soul melts slow, I’m a helpless mess.
JESSICA WILDE

Help Mess Myself Name Slow Soul Voice
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.
JESSICA WILDE

Death Feeling Heart Myself Pain Pretend
You hold a piece of me I will never get back. Be even tender.
JESSICA WILDE

Hold Pieces Return Yourself
Your laughter sounds like a galactic symphony, your eyes shine magic like Saturn’s rings, and your golden hair flares like the sun. I smile as I rock the universe to sleep and sing of stars that twinkle deep within your dreams.
JESSICA WILDE

Dreams Laughter Magic Myself Shine Sound Stars Symphony Universe
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
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
You break everything you touch. Why was I surprised when you broke me too?
JESSICA WILDE

Break Surprise Touch Yourself
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
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
I learned all about love from people that didn’t know how to love me.
JESSICA WILDE

Learning Love Myself People
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.
JESSICA WILDE

Break Ignite Refusal Time Word

Wouldn’t it be enchanting if pixie dust and fairy wings could fix all our broken dreams?

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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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