Flowers crown her with thorns, keeping her mind entrapped in a garden of lies – guarding her mind.
RENEE STONEMy body is a field site of muscle memory and weathered bones.
More Renee Stone Quotes
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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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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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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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Staring into the abyss full of art – hoping for the return of a glimmer or a spark.
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I can assure you that I don’t wake up every day with a smile upon my face, and the distance from happiness in the morning isn’t set at a constant rate.
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I’m writing on a blank page full of chances and hope.
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When you write me into your story, don’t set my end in stone. Feel free to let me go. I’d like to join your story, but remember I have my own.
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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 lost touch with the world around me – gone unnoticed by that which surrounds me, but I must find the presence of that which grounds me if I am to once again grasp onto everything I lost touch with.
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Let go of the honey-sweet lies for the bittersweet truths.
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We’re so distant, words can’t save us.
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It takes less for me to be impacted, for my state of being to worsen.
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I wonder why I’m so empathetic, why people perceive me to be so kind. I don’t want my heart to burn when there’s no one burning mine.
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Here you are, another heartache to guard under my wings as I wait wondering when it’ll be time for me to fly.
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You wonder why you didn’t do it sooner – why you didn’t clear your mind when the clouds loomed.
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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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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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I try to build myself a bridge to cross every time I start to ruminate on my thoughts.
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Imagine the unknown of what the beings around you cover up and struggle with everyday.
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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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To be understood and accepted could change so many lives.
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The thought of you having to try hurts because it feels like you should have known to let me go before you grabbed ahold.
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Somewhere the silence resonates, the clutter clears, and you’re set to start again.
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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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To be understood is to be on part of the path to inclusivity.
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I overwhelmingly write from sadness – in songs, in prose, in verse.
RENEE STONE