Bitter sweet rose her thorns pierce every bone, but her lustful petals fall like bandaids for bleeding sores.
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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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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If I could stitch these wounds with letters every scar would bear your name.
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You’re the crescent moon cradling all theses shadows of me teach me how to shine so there’s no distance between you and I.
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I will always have a little bit of the wild in me. Always remembering what a good heart tastes like. Like love, that never ends. Like you.
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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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You are the book I keep closed, for some stories are not easy to read. But flowers bloom in between like the story is still alive.
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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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Where the heart feels torn is where the blood rushes most and that’s where all the roads meet.
TERAZA FAULKNER -
Love me later when the sun fades into the horizon and the distance between you and I melts away.
TERAZA FAULKNER -
Catch my fall as my wings ignite with love and the sky and I unite.
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We choose our gardens based on what will bloom, and we wait out the seasons, until they do. And sometimes, love needs patience too.
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Maybe all these tears are leading me somewhere. Because when the sun meets rain, something beautiful emerges. And perhaps I am a rainbow in the making.
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Snow relies on branches much like I rely on love but snow knows how to let go and I know how much it hurts.
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She fades away falls behind the curtain of the night and retreats beyond the darkness as though she is gone for good. Yet, she always returns. And so does, love.
TERAZA FAULKNER