a song written at the waters edge

Another day another chance

This time I won’t run From the heat of your desire Let the wind feel.. The tremor Of my soul

Lift me, like only you can — teach me how to fly while holding my hand..

the thing about perfection is that it's unknowable , its impossible . . . but its also right infront of us , all the time

i’m hiding from the world, come join me

There is a lie stitched into some psyches so early and so repeatedly that it became a hidden law inside the nervous system: “If I am fully myself, I will destroy what I love.” They learned to hold back. Dim down. Contort. Scan the room for any potential consequences of their

You don’t have to act like it doesn’t hurt.

there is a shift when the observed observes the observation✨

How feeling guilty is not always dependent on being guilty.

Hold my hand and walk with me into the depths of new dimensions. It won’t be smooth, easy, or fun, but I’ll be by your side until you eventually wear a smile again from celebrating a sunrise you never thought was possible.

I forgave everyone involved, most importantly, myself.

We say we want progress, yet stubbornly avoid the fact we won’t move forward if we don’t work together. Just like they want.

open.spotify.com/track/0o995gJC…

They think they can read you, let them. The ones who seem to most often get it wrong usually feel entitled to your time and energy while they navigate off their own narratives.

There are some wrongs I recognize because I’ve worn those wrongs before.

I knew the sun had spilled a strange secret by reading how her artistry danced up and down the walls of my heart.

Thank you, Toronto. As a Giants fan 🖤🧡, no one could have battled like you did. I feel our grief is shared. You’re the champion in my book. #WANTITALL

Once I’m lost, I’m gone. Forever. You’ll never catch another wave again.