“My soul no longer sings the same chorus.”

Bloom with your colors and fluttering wings of hope and smiles.

I am in love with the flickering stars that illuminated your darkest nights.

We deserve sunshine and hope; and stitches for bruised hearts.

I flew with my dandelion dreams into the wild, unknown.

Blurred tomorrows are here to bring you smiles.

My mind eclipsed with love notes I wrote at night.

I build my empire with stars and words.

Define your steps with your success story.

My mind calls together for the wild and serene.

One day, you’ll be home again.

She is the tides on the sea and limits of the sky.

The universe loves you.

This time you are not broke and alone. You have yourself.

My soul was left with a cosmic radiance, blooming into wildflowers.

Poetry saved my torn heart.

My soul bleeds poetry, dipped in blue scented lies.

I believe that the silence of God, the absolute speechlessness of Him is a long, long, and awful thing that the whole world is lost because of.

When I entered high school I was an A-student, but not for long. I wanted the fancy clothes. I wanted to hang out with the guys. I went from being an A-student to a B-student to a C-student, but I didn’t care. I was getting the high fives and the low fives and the pats on the back. I was cool.

Southerners are the more lonely and spiritually estranged, I think, because we have lived so long in an artificial social system that we insisted was natural and right and just – when all along we knew it wasn’t.

I am descended from a very long line my mother once foolishly listened to.

A popular disturbance never remains long in the full control of those who start it.

The trouble with me is that for a long time I have just been an I person.

The soul in its nature loves God and longs to be at one with Him in the noble love of a daughter for a noble father.

As long as you put on a jersey, no matter what kind of jersey it is, as long as you’re supporting the game of basketball, I enjoy it.