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Let’s sit at the table of angels and allow our horns to pop through our halos.

Olivia Clifford

Your essence, so pure. Even from across the room. I want to savor every last drop. Maybe you could heal the devil in me.
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Devil Healing Pieces Relationship Yourself
And what am I supposed to do with all this residue?
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Break Up End Myself
I am full to the brim with words. A message in a bottle lost at the sea. Yearning to reach the shore of poetry.
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Lost Poetry Sea Word
Rip out my heart. Dissect the atriums and valves. You’ll find nothing but love pouring out.
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Heart Love Myself
Misery loves company, perhaps I’m misery myself, wishing for someone to sit beside me and distract me from myself.
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Company Misery Myself
I love you so much that it hurts and that’s the problem I love you so much that it hurts.
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Hurt I Love You Relationship
It’s quite sad that some words never reach the person they were written for.
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Person Quite Sad Word Writing
She dances with the darkness and becomes the shadow of the night.
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Dance Darkness Herself Night
It’s both a blessing and a curse to feel so much.
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Blessing Feeling One Liner
Time is slipping away from me. And yet, all I have tried to do is pass time.
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Lazy Myself Time Try
Let’s sit at the table of angels and allow our horns to pop through our halos.
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Angel Ourselves Spiritual
Quiet, that’s how I go when there’s a lot to say.
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Quiet Talk
Run free little soul. You were never meant to be constrained.
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Freedom Run Soul Yourself
And when I don’t utter a word, that is when I feel the most.
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Deep Feeling Myself Word
It is beneath pale blue skies, amongst sycamore trees, and afoot dirtied leaves, my heart, and soul finds peace.
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Heart Myself Peace Sky Soul Tree
Time passes. But pieces of my heart remain in the moments of the past ignited the colors of my soul.
OLIVIA CLIFFORD

Heart Myself Past Pieces Soul Time

Let’s sit at the table of angels and allow our horns to pop through our halos.

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Let’s sit at the table of angels and allow our horns to pop through our halos.

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