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And sometimes I think I could touch the sky because these hands were made to reach and this heart was built to survive.

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Build Hands Heart Myself Power Reach Sky Strength Survive Touch

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My heart roams in the wild. A place where there is always room to grow.
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You cannot hope to heal when you are stuck some where between needing to get over them and still wishing for them to come back.
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We were a storm that couldn’t decide where to let the rain fall. I never wanted to let go and you didn’t know how to stop.
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Let autumn be proof that change is a beautiful thing even tho it can be hard to see at first.
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I am learning to let go like autumn. I am learning to grow like spring.
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Learning to save some love for yourself has to start somewhere. What better time than now?
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They tell you to be grateful for what you have. But you are also allowed to be sad for what you have lost.
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Into the soft sand I will carve your name and let the ocean steal what little remains.
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Nothing grows from spreading hate, You’ll find that out quite soon. But plant some love within its place, the world will surely bloom.
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They expect me to feel like spring but my heart is full of April showers.
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The wild is always changing like a reminder. You do not have to be the same to be beautiful.
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I am always forgiving too easily as if I have forgotten the way it hurts.
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I have become a ghost, Letting myself be haunted by everything I once was and everything I could’ve been.
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I have feared change for so long, but the horizon changes all the time and there is still so much beauty under different skies.
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Watching the sun rise again over the rooftops I whisper the things I wish would come back, too. Like hope like happiness like you.
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I have found that pain has a habit of planting roots in beautiful hearts.
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