“And when instead of flowers your heart grows thorns – that’s when you know it does not love.”

On nights I cant sleep, your ghost puts me back to sleep.

She was light. In the way she smiled, in the way kindness poured from her soul, and in the way her heart melted. If you ever looked carefully, you could see it in her eyes; a thousand storms but she stood there like the sun with a smile.

Death speaks differently to me on different nights. Most nights it has your name.

The traveler in me is desperate to explore this gorgeous city but the lover in me refuses to see anywhere but him.

My lips have been silenced for so long, my own voice feels like a stranger.

There are dreams in my eyes that hold you. Even with the moon and the stars, I would still look at you. On the hard days, I hope you remember what you mean to me. You are magic the world failed to see. You are my dream come true.

You saved me. When I thought there was no love for me, you gave me the love of my dreams. Even if it was for a short span of time. you are a miracle I will forever remember.

As a child, I swallowed the hurt. Now, at the slightest touch, I bleed.

All I do is exist and hide the abuse written all over my skin.

The first step towards healing is reflection. From reflection comes awareness, and from awareness we must move towards acceptance. From acceptance, we can take action. And in action comes healing.

All I wanted was to be held by you, thank you for setting me free.

Somedays, I miss you so much I can’t breathe. I cry and cry but it only makes my heart feel heavier. Tonight feels like one of those times. Your absence will be the death of me.

This longing breaks me. Rips my heart open and kills me. Your loss takes out even the worst of me. Your absence will be the death of me.

Somedays, I’m an overflowing fountain, a chaotic ocean or an untamed river. But even on the hard days, kindness is a possibility I always choose.

I’ve never been much of a dancer. But healing is a song I’ve been learning to dance on.

I stopped complaining about things I didn’t have, and poured gratitude for what I did. Life became lighter and more fulfilling. Desire didn’t hold onto me like it earlier did. Happiness filled in like light, and life started to feel like a blessing.

How much I desire! Inside my little satchel, the moon, and flowers.

Inside each one of us is a beautiful flower garden. This is the garden of the soul. With each lesson we learn, the garden grows. As we learn together, our individual gardens form a tranquil paradise.

When I touch that flower, I am not merely touching that flower. I am touching infinity. That little flower existed long before there were human beings on this earth. It will continue to exist for thousands, yes, millions of years to come.

Linnea- A plant of Lapland, lowly, insignificant, disregarded, flowering but for a brief space – from Linnaeus who resembles it.

Mama was my greatest teacher, a teacher of compassion, love and fearlessness. If love is sweet as a flower, then my mother is that sweet flower of love.

We don’t ask a flower any special reason for its existence. We just look at it and are able to accept it as being something different from ourselves.

Many a humble soul will be amazed to find that the seed it sowed in weakness, in the dust of daily life, has blossomed into immortal flowers under the eye of the Lord.

How I long to see among dawn flowers, the face of God.