“Every morning when I open my eyes, I feel possibility.”

I am slowly finding my way back into my skin. Or maybe that’s not it. I am growing into a new skin with knowledge and time.

A year ago everything started to change. I didn’t think I could come out on the other side. The view is fine. I’m fine. Better now.

Without authenticity you are nothing.

It’s possible to be all the parts of you that live in your heart, brain, and body. Not divided into containers. A giant messy wait of authenticity. Where you are all the things. All the time.

When you come calling I’ll answer. But I know I have to keep a piece of my heart just for me.

You are the only one I can truly count on.

I have decided that the key to happiness is strong communication.

I breathe better now. I thought I wouldn’t or couldn’t. But I was wrong. Isn’t that how it is with these things.

No. I can’t pretend that everything is the way it was. Even though that’s what we do- move on like everything is okay.

I cannot face another moment of inauthenticity. Not one more day. Saying no to the things that make me uncomfortable in my skin.

A low hum. Vibration when it hits the skin. An image. Permanent art. But the most satisfying part is- the decisive-ness. Decision made.

When I am broken you don’t try to fix me. You listen. You are there. Thankyou.

If you think this one is about you- it probably is.

We only see what we want to see. Usually it is ourselves. Look closer. Tilt the mirror so you can see more. Beyond self.

We say so much with our words unsaid. There is truth in the silence.

Holding on to something that has lost its magic, lost its mutual respect, hurts more. Elsa understood the assignment.

Rainbow sugar, candied eyes. You have the potential to crack me open and let my feelings spill right onto the floor.

You have caused many oceans to pour from the very eyes everyone says I got from you.

Your euphoric eyes hold me hostage.

And maybe my arms have grown too tired to hold this but my eyes will never stop searching for miracles.

You keep planting sympathy in rows meant for empathy and I’m here picking weeds with tears in my eyes.

Success? I don’t know what that word means. I’m happy. But success, that goes back to what in somebody’s eyes success means. For me, success is inner peace.

There won’t be anyone else. I can tell you that right now. Your eyes show me that you don’t believe that just yet. Even if it takes me months or years. I’ll make you believe it so.

Stars fell in our eyes the night sky our canvas, we painted the moon red.