Please come here, but not too close.
SCHUYLERIf every feeling comes like a wave, I try to decide what kind of coastline I’ll become.
More Schuyler Quotes
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Hold me here, where I feel less like a stranger to my own laughter. Where it’s easier to believe things happen for a reason or maybe, at least, out of a thousand winding roads my life might take, I will still find one that fits me.
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Your anger, your sorrow, your fear, are okay to feel through, no matter how big it feels now.
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I never lose pieces of me, I just gain new understanding.
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I will still live like a ghost in the mornings; walking, listening, pouring coffee to finish sometime by the afternoon, when I’ve had enough of watching the world and do all I can to live in it.
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Meet me where happiness doesn’t feel like a false spring.
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I know I could be an astronomer of this swooning.
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I don’t want to be a saint, I want a love I don’t fight alone to keep.
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This does not have to be a hard life to love. There is not enough time to let it stray too far from my hands.
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I’m remembering again, how loneliness has always made me brave.
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I sit on the bare floor, leave my palms unturned, and watch relief pool into one hand, and uncertainty in the next. I will try not to lean more one way or another, but let them hold each other as company.
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How radiant you are, waiting by the window, watching for the sun to grant you more time to dance beneath it. You’ve let yourself dream again. Even if its in bites, even if it’s in a different voice than it used to be.
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I descend into an unopened sky, the ocean floor, the final embrace of a graveyard. Find your fill of me before my blue pales like a sour moon.
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Take me back to the evergreen trees; to the sunlight through the leaves, the bending ferns and fronds. The pitter of the rain, the smooth rocks sleeping under moss. Take me back to the life I know before this body.
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I want to wade into the water on the sidewalk, crawl out of this feeling without giving it a name. Take a lighter to love’s sticky edges so its sadness isn’t caught in my throat.
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My love lives in my cheeks – gives me away by the first smile. all the lines from years spent laughing, warm with extra freckles in the summer; a poker face that doesn’t keep once my knees fold.
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For now, I’ll bring what I can to my own four walls. I recognize the purpose, the promise of this: a church is made by its space, by its practices.
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Some mornings, I like to live like a secret; wake as quietly as I can, slip out of bed without so much as a wrinkle.
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The world will be loud again. I’ll notice the loneliness less.
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If every feeling comes like a wave, I try to decide what kind of coastline I’ll become.
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I’m thinking about how early the spring flower buds rise up from the grass; just barely on winter’s heels. How uncomfortable, how cold the soil must be, still half-frosted, when the roots start to take shape.
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I’m choosing to believe things are getting better again. The give and take of joy, remembering a few days of ache does not mean forever.
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I allow myself to be a weathervane; receive every feeling that greets the shore of me.
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There will be a time where this hurts less and it will not mean it didn’t matter. It means that in the face of feeling something precious slip in my hands, I will always find a way back to myself.
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Yes, this life is mine, but more often I watch it take place and my hands feel too far away to touch it.
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In a dream, I’m holding you close and when I wake, I do. How lucky, to want and have.
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I’ll craft a haven that that cradles every joy and sorrow, but doesn’t hold them to keep.
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