Snow relies on branches much like I rely on love but snow knows how to let go and I know how much it hurts.
TERAZA FAULKNERWhere the heart feels torn is where the blood rushes most and that’s where all the roads meet.
More Teraza Faulkner Quotes
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It was meant to be just rain, that went away. Yet we became the storm, of yesterday.
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I wish for a world where our hearts could be seen on the outside and we acred more about what our love looked like than our faces.
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I’m holding happiness as though it never left it was always below my skin. Waiting to be seen waiting for the opportunity to breathe again.
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There is no road less travelled than the one that leads into the sea. But the waves will always take you to where you need to be.
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Love me later when the sun fades into the horizon and the distance between you and I melts away.
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Dawn breaks and this heart breaks, too. Yet the sun continues to rise and this heart of mine knows only of the journey down, like an eclipse of the heart.
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I’m holding onto you, like a cloud holds rain. Knowing at some point I must let go. But waiting for the perfect storm, that will make it so much easier.
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I’ve been that children, learning to walk. Somedays I’ve fallen, and some days I’ve crawled. But the steps, they grew. And so did my strength. And then I let go of your hand.
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I stand before mother natures pleasures as she is a playground for my soul. But you will always be the only playground that I call home.
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Wouldn’t it be a different world if love passed as freely through us as money passes through hands.
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Pain is as dark as it is deep. But just like anything that receives enough light, it too will fade over time and become something, a little less ominous, and a little more hopeful.
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The more I branch out, the less lonely I feel. I often wonder if trees are like that, too.
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Skin on skin his heart beat an orchestra against her chest. Love never tires of music like this.
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There is snow on my face and wind in my hair and winter has nearly stolen me. But as I remember the words of our song then spring still owns a part of me.
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Sometimes my lion will try to roar back when I flee. But its my butterfly that keeps me silent when I leave.
TERAZA FAULKNER