And after all, maybe life wasn’t meant to be defined by the grand moments, but by the quiet ones we forget to keep. The sound of waves moving with ease, the warmth of a familiar voice, the little things that ask for nothing, but our attention. Maybe happiness was never something we had to find, because maybe, happiness was always here, hiding in the little things, but we were too busy to notice.

I look up at the gasping stars in the silence. I know this wind, I know these streets These are my lanterns. But What happens when humans win? When our lights shine too bright- When we are so afraid of black skies we drown the starlight? And When we are but ashes, how will you see us? Dust, my love, but what kind? You will not see stardust, though We burned like stars. But we are not the phoenix. In brilliant flame stars are reborn, the bird made whole but us? We are once an

If I had never met you, and had never learned how love can swallow you whole, then maybe I wouldn’t move through the day, wide awake, but afraid to live. I’d survive moment to moment, each moment moving so fast that I can’t slow down. If I had never met you, and never learned the way your love speaks, then maybe words that are harsh would speak more meaning to me. If I had never met you, and never learned the boundaries of your love, then maybe time wouldn’t hold me hostage

Have you noticed how the impermanence of things urges us to be present? Have you noticed how you savor something a little more, look a little closer, feel a little more obligated to meet a moment fully when it carries a clear ending? The stream by my house flows maybe two or three or four times each year. Rains come, and I stand on a rock in its center, feel the water lap at my toes, watch it rush and bend out of sight as it moves toward the ocean miles away. I love to watch

But I know this isn’t goodbye– not really. It’s just distance teaching, how strong we are. Everything in me still wishes time would wait, or even stop. Just one more minute. You’re out there chasing your future, and I’m here holding onto the past– Not being able to let you go, because if I do: it means I lose you, just to grow. But go, make someone else feel safe, just like you did to me. Fill more rooms with your laughter just like you did to mine. And I’ll stay, saving you

“People have beautiful things to say about you, but you must die first.” People write poems about you when you’re gone, but ignore your story while you’re here. The value of a presence is often defined by the void it leaves behind. And suddenly, you are more than ever before. Every missed call returned in regret, Every silence starts speaking in a language no one bothered to translate. Maybe you’ll finally be given flowers you wish were from that boy. Petals pressed into

If life is ultimately out of our control, why not be optimistic about it? I think you should stop holding yourself back from doing things because you’re scared, but actually do them because you’re scared. Why be afraid to lose something you already have? Stop worrying about what you’ll do when it’s gone, and ask yourself what you’ll do while it’s there. Have those dreams, have those goals, love those people, and quit listening to people who use realism as perfume to dress up

You do not need to be excellent. The earth does not ask you to be. The trees do not ask how many dollars you will make of them, and the worms do not ask how fast you travel in your car. The earth just spins, and the worms just crawl. The only thing you need to be is alive. The only thing you need to do is love how you live. The dogs do not wag their tails at how well you do on a test, and they do not bark because they do not have time for you. You mustn’t walk through hell

I felt so much, that I started to feel nothing I wanted to say so much, That I said nothing Yet that was everything. Too much of everything. Stop me before my heart begins to race I'm reliving every second I promised wouldn’t leave a trace You can look back sometimes, But don't ever fully turn around. Those feelings are an anchor, Proof you are alive. Because at least you can feel. Reach into me with your hands And your fingertips will kiss the nothingness, That inhabi