Autumn is the hardest season. The leaves are all falling, and they're falling like they're falling in love with the ground.

Your ignorance keeps dismembering every piece of patience I have left.

Sometimes the most healing thing to do is remind ourselves over and over and over, other people feel this too.

Lately I've been thinking about who I want to love, and how I want to love, and why I want to love the way I want to love, and what I need to learn to love that way, and how I need to become to become the kind of love I want to be. And when I break it all down, when I whittle it into a single breath, it essentially comes out like this: before I die, I want to be somebody's favorite hiding place, the place they can put everything 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.

What I know about living is the pain is never just ours Every time I hurt I know the wound is an echo So I keep a listening to the moment the grief becomes a window When I can see what I couldn’t see before, through the glass of my most battered dream, I watched a dandelion lose its mind in the wind and when it did, it scattered a thousand seeds. So the next time I tell you how easily I come out of my skin, don’t try to put me back in just say here we are together at the window aching for it to all get better

I don't have a single plan for my life more important than learning to love people well.

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