Right now there’s a man on the street outside my door with outstretched hands full of heartbeats no one can hear. He has cheeks like torn sheet music every tear-broken crescendo falling on deaf ears. At his side there’s a boy with eyes like an anthem no one stands up for.
Hey, are you a boy or a – never mind, can I have a push on the swing?” And some day, y’all, when we grow up, it’s all gonna be that simple.
I wish for a heart you can see straight through, for a voice that glows in the dark, and a few really good friends to say, “That’s the way to go.
This is for the times you went through hell so someone else wouldn’t have to.
I don’t have a single plan for my life more important than learning to love people well.
I’d cut my soul into a million different pieces just to form a constellation to light your way home. I’d write love poems to the parts of yourself you can’t stand. I’d stand in the shadows of your heart and tell you I’m not afraid of your dark.
Before I die, I want to be somebody’s favorite hiding place, the place they can put everything they know they need to survive, every secret, every solitude, every nervous prayer, and be absolutely certain I will keep it safe. I will keep it safe.
I’m good at loving books. I’m good at loving soft bed sheets. I’m good at loving coffees and teas. I am good at loving things that can’t love me back, that don’t have the power to leave. And maybe, that’s why I love them.
Sometimes the break in your heart is like the hole in the flute. Sometimes it’s the place where the music comes through.
You have a heart of gold and I am kneeling in your bloodstream panning for the only thing that has ever felt like home.
Commit to loving yourself completely. It’s the most radical thing you will do in your lifetime.
My heart is a parachute that has never opened in time.