Perhaps They Were Right Putting Love Into Books.

Perhaps they were right putting love into books.

Perhaps it could not live anywhere else.

william faulkner

It is both a blessing and a curse to feel everything so deeply.

"So, if you are too tired to speak, sit next to me because I, too, am fluent in silence."

- R. Arnold

Grief is love's souvenir. It's our proof that we once loved.

Grief is the receipt we wave in the air that says to the world: Look! Love was once mine. I love well. Here is my proof l paid the price.

- Glennon Doyle Melton, Love Warrior

But now, I know, how absence can be present, like a damaged nerve, like a dark bird.

Audrey Neffenegger

Echoes of a Silent Symphony

In shadows of a love once bright,

Time whispers tales of a silent night.

A year has passed, a silent cry,

As memories linger, refusing to die.

Her birthday echoes, a haunting song,

Through tears that fall, where love went wrong.

A distant gaze at a friend's tale,

A wound reopens, a ship set to sail.

Wet pillow cases, silent cries,

A heartache buried, where true love lies.

Dried thought-filled eyes, a hollow heart,

Yearning for a chance to restart.

In the echoes of what used to be,

A broken symphony, lost at sea.

Yet hope may rise with each sunrise,

As healing whispers through tear-stained eyes.