I spill words among pages so that I can’t say my thoughts are stuck in cages. Can’t say I didn’t let it out when I can say for sure I wrote it down.
RENEE STONEThe thought of you having to try hurts because it feels like you should have known to let me go before you grabbed ahold.
More Renee Stone Quotes
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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 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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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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To be understood and accepted could change so many lives.
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Somewhere the silence resonates, the clutter clears, and you’re set to start again.
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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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Tell me I’m sun-kissed, but you burn my skin. And you already told me, I was paper thin.
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Healing means looking within when you want to move on. Healing means letting go when your grip is too tight.
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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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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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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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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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I try to build myself a bridge to cross every time I start to ruminate on my thoughts.
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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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Imagine the unknown of what the beings around you cover up and struggle with everyday.
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My words decay. I grow as they fray, unbecoming in the passage of time.
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I carry on knowing that when I deteriorate, my body will be a museum of all I can do and all that hindered me.
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I overwhelmingly write from sadness – in songs, in prose, in verse.
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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 the songs you haven’t heard from me. To the pains you haven’t felt for me.
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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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And I saw forever in your eyes ’til the sunset started to dim your light. You told me you’d always hold me tight, but your warmth faded with the bright.
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Let go of the honey-sweet lies for the bittersweet truths.
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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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When the silence fades and now sounds begin to bloom, I will grow to feel calm again. Healthily this time.
RENEE STONE