I know you think this world is too dark to even dream in color, but I’ve seen flowers bloom at midnight. I’ve seen kites fly in gray skies and they were real close to looking like the sunrise, and sometime it takes the most wounded wings the most broken things to notice how strong the breeze is, how precious the flight.— Andrea Gibson
The most massive Andrea Gibson quotes that will activate your inner potential
I’d cut my soul into a million different pieces just to form a constellation to light your way home. I’d write love poems to the parts of yourself you can’t stand. I’d stand in the shadows of your heart and tell you I’m not afraid of your dark.
I don't have a single plan for my life more important than learning to love people well.
Sometimes the break in your heart is like the hole in the flute.
Sometimes it’s the place where the music comes through.
Commit to loving yourself completely. It’s the most radical thing you will do in your lifetime.
I'm good at loving books. I'm good at loving soft bed sheets. I'm good at loving coffees and teas. I am good at loving things that can't love me back, that don't have the power to leave. And maybe, that's why I love them.
You never wish on shooting stars. You wish on the ones that have the courage to shine where they are.
Before I die, I want to be somebody’s favorite hiding place, the place they can put everything they know they need to survive, every secret, every solitude, every nervous prayer, and be absolutely certain I will keep it safe. I will keep it safe.
Everyone’s chest is a living room wall with awkwardly placed photographs hiding fist-shaped holes.
Forests may be gorgeous but there is nothing more alive than a tree that learns how to grow in a cemetery.
If you’re handing out flashlights in the dark, start handing out stars.
We are all instruments pulling the bows across our own lungs.
Windmills, still startling in every storm. Have you ever seen a newborn blinking at the light? I wanna do that every day. I wanna know what the kite called itself when it got away, when it escaped into the night.
Touch me ‘til my ribs become piano keys, ‘til there is sheet music scrolled across the inside of my lungs.
But when I thought I hit bottom, it started hitting back.
There is no bruise like the bruise loneliness kicks into your spine.
Remind me that the most fertile lands were built by the fires of volcanoes.
and I wonder if Beethoven held his breath the first time his fingers touched the keys the same way a soldier holds his breath the first time his finger clicks the trigger. We all have different reasons for forgetting to breathe.
You have a heart of gold and I am kneeling in your bloodstream panning for the only thing that has ever felt like home.
I have never met a heavy heart that wasn’t a phone booth with a red cape inside Some people will never understand the kind of superpower it takes for some people to just walk outside Some days I know my smile looks like the gutter of a falling house But my hands are always holding tight to the ripchord of believing
Sometimes the most healing thing to do is remind ourselves over and over and over, other people feel this too.
My heart is a parachute that has never opened in time.
I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror on a day you’re feeling good. I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror on a day you’re feeling bad. I wanna know the first person who taught you your beauty could ever be reflected on a lousy piece of glass.
In your arms I forget what the yarn knows of sweaters.
I forget how to hold myself together. So if I unfold now like a love letter tell me you'll write back soon. Tell me you'll still come untethered.
Every lover is a storm chaser. Every good heart has lost its roof.
Cause I might be naked and lonely Shaking branches for bones But I'm still time zones away From who I was the day before we met You were the first mile Where my heart broke a sweat And I wish you were here I wish you'd never left But mostly I wish you well I wish you my very very best.
I have always been comfortable weathering the storm.
I’d like to get more comfortable weathering the sunny day.
You keep worrying you’re taking up too much space. I wish you’d let yourself be the milky way.
Let me also say I wanna make you sandwhiches, And soup, And peanut butter cookies, Though, the truth is peanutbutter is actually really bad for you 'cause they grow peanuts in old cotton fields to clean the toxins out of the soil, But hey, you like peanutbutter and I like you!
You panic button collector. You clock of beautiful ticks. You run out the door if you need to. You flock to the front row of your own class. You feather everything until you know you can always, always shake like a leaf on my family tree and know you belong here. You belong here and everything you feel is okay. Everything you feel is okay.
Right now there’s a man on the street outside my door with outstretched hands full of heartbeats no one can hear. He has cheeks like torn sheet music every tear-broken crescendo falling on deaf ears. At his side there’s a boy with eyes like an anthem no one stands up for.
I could never trust anyone who's well adjusted to a sick society.
My mouth is a fire escape. The words coming out don’t care that they are naked. There is something burning in there.
I know a thousand things louder than a soldier's gun; I know the heartbeat of his mother.
A doctor once told me I feel too much.
I said, so does god. that’s why you can see the grand canyon from the moon.
I write because it is while I'm writing that I feel most connected to why we're here. I write because silence is a heavy weight to carry. I write to remember. I write to heal. I write to let the air in. I write as a practice of listening.
I'm not lookin' for someone who can save me.
Life rafts might keep you afloat but they rarely get you anywhere and I've got places I wanna go. So break me in two, peel back my rib cage and cover every page of my heart with love poems you will burn someday.
My heart is still a leather jacket I am waiting to give to someone sweet.
The trauma said, ‘Don’t write these poems.
Nobody wants to hear you cry about the grief inside your bones.
Autumn is the hardest season. The leaves are all falling, and they're falling like they're falling in love with the ground.
Say this is what the pain made of you: an open, open, open road, an avalanche of feel it all.
Last night I saw your ghost pedalling a bicycle with a basket towards a moon as full as my heavy head and I wanted nothing more than to be sitting in that basket like ET with my glowing heart glowing right through my chest and my glowing finger pointing in the direction of our home.
You can have a cold war with yourself, even in the summertime
But whatever However Whenever this ends I want you to know That right now I love you forever
Everything but "I LOVE YOU" is small talk.
This is my heartbeat like yours, it is a hatchet It can build a house or tear one down.
Someday we will dare to trade good for true
I'm never gonna wait that extra twenty minutes to text you back and I'm never gonna play hard to get when I know your life has been hard enough already.
And we were Banksy on an overpass in New Orleans spray-painting porch lights on the hurricane. We were welcome mats for the un-forgiven. We never sold our windpipes to make a living. We were the letters sent to the wrong address, but opened anyway. We opened anyway.
Love isn't always magic. But if I offered my body to the magician, if I told him to cut me in half so after that I could come to you whole and ask for you back would you listen for this dark alley love song? For the winter we heated our home from the steam off our own bodies?
Yes, I like girls; Yes, I like boys; I like boys who like boys; I like girls who wear toys and girls who don't; I like girls who don't call themselves girls; Crew cuts or curls or that really bad hair phase in between.
Don't google your name. Ever. Don't “search” for yourself on anything that glows in the dark. Don't let your beauty be something anyone can turn off. Don't edit your ugly out of your bio. Let your light come from the fire. Let your pain be the spark, but not the timber. Remember, you didn't come here to write your heart out. You came to write it in.