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

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

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

If you ever reach enlightenment. will you remember how to laugh?

My heart is still a leather jacket I am waiting to give to someone sweet.

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

My heart is a parachute that has never opened in time.