You panic button collector. You clock of beautiful ticks. You run out the door if you need to. You flock to the front row of your own class. You feather everything until you know you can always, always shake like a leaf on my family tree and know you belong here. You belong here and everything you feel is okay. Everything you feel is okay.

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.

Our insanity is not that we see people who aren’t there. It’s that we ignore the ones who are.

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

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

This is my heartbeat like yours, it is a hatchet It can build a house or tear one down.

If love did not exist, I would be so goddamn sane.