We spoke of differents gods but prayed to the same, of holiness and hope. We are all starfished to something too great to grasp...

She has felt the world in its encompassing fullness. There is no place life has not touched her, and she has all the more to give for it.

In the dark, there is courage to speak truth...for even gruesome, unsettling, lonely things want to be heard.

I remind myself to look harder, that growing up is not the best in all things...

I begin to unravel myself...and remind myself that survival looks different for everyone.

You must remember that you will never be too broken to be loved, and I for one can’t wait for you to meet me.

and beauty I will make of myself. Like an angel in the stone, I am made free.

For we are playwrights to our stories, and we prepare for tragedies. Lean in, for you were made for so much more than what you wrote for you

Show me what you are made of, I cried out to the world, for we were made the same, both light and dark, and better for it.

When you think of your mother, you look at yourself. The way you cook your eggs and notice wildflowers by the roadside...

And in the dim, milky light of evening, I looked to see who still remained, and broke a smile of moonlight when I saw that it was me.

You never thought the end of the world would look like this, but you always knew that it would begin again with you.

We are in limbo, and we say nothing, as if a word of breath could break this moment, scared of what comes after when we admit that we can’t

If you can touch her without her marble skin, when she is broken and edged, you have properly held a woman. Woman is art.

3 a.m. creeps in, heavy and brooding, full of feeling with no room to hold it.

Bubbly at the tongue, burning at the back of the throat, for the good times were hard to swallow when we realized that they were over.

When you remember that you are made of darkness, go back to nature and all the rest you are made of.

I’ve heard your heart hum and mellow as your breath grows louder with peace, and I hold you until heaven reaches you.

to be happiness when you are happy, to feel as if I were you, for what you love and lose is close to me

Do not accept the haunting of what could have been by holding your breath. Exhale. Let her go, but forget me not, for I am still here.

He reads people like storybooks, hungry and desperate, a wolf preying on itself, learning that nature and nurture mean more than a few lett

On nights like these, when she was the scenery, she felt afraid. She didn’t know how to be more than a sitting body.

But we soon learn that the grief we toss, comes back to us... So we decide to hurt, to hold onto grief to make room for something else.

So I tuck myself into my body with soft hands, ingraining a new way to hold myself for the person I am becoming.

Whispering secrets into our pillow cases and giving pats on the back, the ways childhood taught us to hope.

I remember him looking at me, not with his eyes, but with his hands...weighing how little he could hold onto without losing me.

but by the fire we ignited with fear, we grew to kindle with kindness. and the smoke that arose lead us to dawn.

And i see walls fall in love, finding a place where they can touch and not fall from it.

uncover me from the haze and you will find my heart in the willows