due to my clumsiness, i fall in love, and find hope in broken people   i am trying so hard to move on from the past, but even in the most open space i find sharp edges, so every time a wound heals it is torn open again   -g.c.

places for negative thoughts to be harbored are etched into our minds, space for the past and all its taunting mistakes to be held and all our hopes for the future to be kept. where uncertainty conquers all desire, and where presence remains absent. here, sanity is lost. when a moment comes that you are…

my hands are like my mother’s, the scent of dish soap lingering, ungroomed nails, rough broken skin, working hands, an unloved body, possessing a wondering soul   my ambitions are like my mother’s, too difficult for other’s to grasp   my past actions, fill their heads with doubt and uncertainty   my love is like my…

the future the essence of all my fears not even the past can amount to the future not even the countless tears in my tattered heart i fear what the past will bring to the future to dissolve the illusory to make art that can calm an old yet restless heart but the difficulty sometimes…