I Don't Want To Turn Any Of

Don't Let Your Luggage Define Your Travels, Each Life Unravels Differently.

I Don't Want To Turn Any Of This Into Poetry / But / You're So Beautiful / Flowers Turn Their Heads To Smell You

If Your Heart Is Broken, Make Art With The Pieces.

I'm Not The Only Kid Who Grew Up This Way, Surrounded By People Who Used To Say That Rhyme About Sticks And Stones, As If Broken Bones Hurt More Than The Names We Got Called, And We Got Called Them All. So We Grew Up Believing No One Would Ever Fall In Love With Us, That We'd Be Lonely Forever, That We'd Never Meet Someone To Make Us Feel Like The Sun Was Something They Built For Us In Their Toolshed. So Broken Heartstrings Bled The Blues, And We Tried To Empty Ourselves So We'd Feel Nothing. Don't Tell Me That Hurts Less Than A Broken Bone...

I Sit Before Flowers ?hoping They Will Train Me In The Art ?of Opening Up