But when I thought I hit bottom, it started hitting back. There is no bruise like the bruise loneliness kicks into your spine.

My mouth is a fire escape. The words coming out don’t care that they are naked. There is something burning in there.

I know this world is far from perfect. I am not the type to mistake a streetlight for the moon. I know our wounds are deep as the Atlantic. But every ocean has a shoreline and every shoreline has a tide that is constantly returning to wake the songbirds in our hands, to wake the music in our bones, to place one fearless kiss on the mouth of that new born river that has to run through the center of our hearts to find its way home.

Know you belong here. You belong here and everything you feel is okay.

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.

Touch me 'til my ribs become piano keys.

A doctor once told me I feel too much. I said, so does god. that’s why you can see the grand canyon from the moon.