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

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

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.

You are not weak just because your heart feels so empty.

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

I know a thousand things louder than a soldier's gun; I know the heartbeat of his mother.

We have to create; it is the only thing louder than destruction.