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

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

I’ve written this poem before but always through a window, never through an open door.

We all have bullets beneath our skin we pray our lovers won't flinch at when they find.

I could never trust anyone who's well adjusted to a sick society.

What Gods do you believe in? I'll build you a temple of mirrors so you can see them.

It's your worst sin saving your f***ing life; It's the devil's knife carving holes into your soul so angels have a way to make their way inside; Life doesn't rhyme. Still, life is poetry, not math. The whole world's a stage, but the stage is a meditation mat. You tilt your head back; you breathe. when your heart is broken, you plant seeds in the cracks and you pray for rain.