The trauma said, ‘Don’t write these poems. Nobody wants to hear you cry about the grief inside your bones.

In your arms I forget what the yarn knows of sweaters. I forget how to hold myself together. So if I unfold now like a love letter tell me you'll write back soon. Tell me you'll still come untethered.

Someday we will dare to trade good for true

and I wonder if Beethoven held his breath the first time his fingers touched the keys the same way a soldier holds his breath the first time his finger clicks the trigger. We all have different reasons for forgetting to breathe.

Commit to loving yourself completely. It’s the most radical thing you will do in your lifetime.

she's wondering how many women are walking around this world feeling the tingling of their amputated wings remembering what it was to fly to sing

Remember, you didn’t come here to write your heart out. You came to write it in.