When He’s ready, He’ll makes a beautiful mosaic out of them.
to the child we loved that never got the chance to fully form before flushing down the drain to the child that didn’t come home with us to the child that endured our troubled lullabies Our hearts carry you. Our arms long to hold.
…may I continue to choose my choices.
…someone sees something we did and remember us foundly.
back to full, back to whole again.
I trust you’ll find new dreams, new heights to conquer.
Hold your own hands and comfort yourself. Count on yourself.
She knew that she gave birth to a god…
when he twirls you
around, his crotch…