“And the sound of my smile will be the alarm clock to your morning ears.”

In the space, the pause between this breath and the one that follows, you have made a home inside me.

You are the habit that I will spend my lifetime trying not to break.

We too can rise up, We too can float like lanterns To a better place.

Because of you I can feel myself slowly but surely becoming the me I have always dreamed of being.

There is more light than darkness, there has always been.

Photos I’m not in and memories we don’t share, haunt my lonely eyes.

I will never, ever believe in the words “too late” because it is never too late to be exactly who you wish, do exactly what you should, say exactly what needs to be heard, and live the exact life you should be living.

I care not about lost firsts, but I will fight, knuckles bloody and teeth sharpened, for your lasts.

Oh what we could be if we stopped carrying the remains of who we were.

Illusions must be out to death. That is the cruelty of growing up.

I Remember It, Precisely And Perfectly, The Birth Of This Love.

I do not know if I will ever be complete, but I know whatever I am, You will always be the rest of me.

I love you, in ways you’ve never been loved, for reasons you’ve never been told, for longer than you think you deserved and with more than you will ever know existed inside me.

If I died tonight I think I would like to come back as your morning coffee. Just as strong and just as necessary.

Press your ear to my chest and listen where a heartbeat should sing you will hear the melancholy songs of tired whales.

Do broken pianos play broken songs? Do they have busted melodies for busted hearts? Is there a song living inside it that’s waiting to get out? Her keys are shattered and her notes long since silent but I can still hear her song. Just listen, just listen.

O solitude, where are the charms That sages have seen in thy face? Better dwell in the midst of alarms, Than reign in this horrible place.

I am also deeply concerned with the widespread, often undiagnosed, incidents of PTSD and the alarming suicide rates amongst our returning soldiers.

It is not death, it is dying that alarms me.

We are right to take alarm at the first experiment upon our liberties.

Once you turn 25 & above, you need not set the alarm. Your problems will wake you up in the morning.

That’s the purpose of stress. It’s a friend. It’s an alarm clock, built in to let you know that it’s time to do The Work.

The growth of the power of Athens, and the alarm which this inspired in Sparta, made war inevitable.

He who thinks with difficulty believes with alacrity.