I write poems of the past; they reveal the reasons we didn’t last.
RENEE STONEI can’t take it all in or else I’ll grow cold when the heat already escapes my fingers and toes.
More Renee Stone Quotes
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It felt vulnerable to have people know my weaknesses, but there is so much strength from going back to the start and re-determining who you are.
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Imagine the unknown of what the beings around you cover up and struggle with everyday.
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It’s really hard to grow up wanting to provide people with resources and support and realizing that while I can and will do that – I also need more than I thought I would.
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To be understood and accepted could change so many lives.
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I was never lonely alone because love has come to me in many forms, and one of them was you.
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I overwhelmingly write from sadness – in songs, in prose, in verse.
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There is a warmth that fills the soul when the sun’s rays tend to your skin from up above.
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Why is it that you have more practice describing weaknesses than strengths? It’s not your fault they never went to the lengths to teach you how to value your strengths.
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I don’t think anyone really gets my attachment to the little things. They call it insignificant and say that it is what it is. I think it all adds up to what we stand for. The little things add up to something meaningful and so does the complacency.
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When you and the world are out of breath, take the steps to ensure your own needs are met. By the moment you know someone can’t on their own, you’ll hopefully be ready to help.
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I escaped the voice of darkness that was as pervasive as the silence that has come to replace all the words you had misplaced.
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To the songs you haven’t heard from me. To the pains you haven’t felt for me.
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My body is a field site of muscle memory and weathered bones.
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I wish you could feel it when it’s dark at night, and I think of you when I pass the streetlights. But I know you feel the care without me being there.
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They tell me summer is coming, and soon we’ll be dancing on the shore. Waiting for the moonlight to light me up amongst the starlight.
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I hide myself in the galaxies of my creations – unsure of who I am beyond that.
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I grew up learning history about communities that would support their people (the idea that it takes a village), but all I see are so many people left on their own.
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Let go of the honey-sweet lies for the bittersweet truths.
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They hit like waves, the memories of those old summer days. Memories you’d have thought to erase, but they crash ashore without haste.
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I search for comedy scripts, I watch happy shows, In hopes that laughter will be the remedy I end my day with.
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I can’t take it all in or else I’ll grow cold when the heat already escapes my fingers and toes.
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Reading has always been my sweetest escape, but I write to convey that which I want to escape or what scares me to say, even if it’s something positive.
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I want to tell them how tired I am because I don’t think it shows. But maybe it’s the same for them – all strangers to the weight each of us carries. So alone, we carry these loads.
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It takes less for me to be impacted, for my state of being to worsen.
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Flowers crown her with thorns, keeping her mind entrapped in a garden of lies – guarding her mind.
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You are chaos in my heart – clogging up my arteries. I can’t move on or bring in more love than what was at the start
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