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Andrea Gibson

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“..when a war ends, what does that look like exactly? do the cells in the body stop detonating themselves? does the orphanage stop screaming for its mother? when the sand in the desert has been melted down to glass and our reflection is not something we can stand to look at does the white flag make for a perfect blindfold? yesterday i was told a story about this little girl in Iraq, six-years-old, who cannot fall asleep because when she does she dreams of nothing but the day she watched her dog eat her neighbor's corpse. if you told her war is over do you think she can sleep?”

IfsThinkingYearsLooksLittlesDoeHas BeensWarEndsStoriesDreamBodyMotherFallGirlSleepWhitePerfectDogSixReflectionGlassesIraqNeighborYesterdayCellsDesertSandFlagsCorpsesSix Year OldsOrphanageBlindfoldsWhite Flag
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“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.”

ThinkingKnowsWorldRealDreamStrongDarkSkyThis WorldColorFlowerBrokenWingsFlightGrayWoundedSunriseMidnightBreezeKitesBlooming FlowerBroken ThingsGray Skies
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“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.”

MenHandsEyeFallSidesBoysDoorsStreetsTearsBrokenRight NowEarsCheeksSheetsTornDeafHeartbeatAnthemCrescendoDeaf EarsSheet Music
Book:Pole Dancing to Gospel Hymns
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“I know this world is far from perfect. I am not the type to mistake a streetlight for the moon. I know our wounds are deep as the Atlantic. But every ocean has a shoreline and every shoreline has a tide that is constantly returning to wake the songbirds in our hands, to wake the music in our bones, to place one fearless kiss on the mouth of that new born river that has to run through the center of our hearts to find its way home.”

KnowsWorldWayHeartHomeHandsRunningBornPerfectMistakeThis WorldTypeMoonKissingOceanBirdMouthsRiversBonesWoundsFearlessTidesWay HomeShorelineSongbirds
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“Lately I've been thinking about who I want to love, and how I want to love, and why I want to love the way I want to love, and what I need to learn to love that way, and how I need to become to become the kind of love I want to be. And when I break it all down, when I whittle it into a single breath, it essentially comes out like this: before I die, I want to be somebody's favorite hiding place, the place they can put everything 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.”

ThinkingWayWantNeedsKindCertainDiesPrayerSecretBreakSolitudeSafeBreathsNervousHidingKinds Of LoveHiding PlaceBefore I Die
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“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. When we all know everyone’s life has been hard enough already it’s hard to watch the game we make of love, like everyone’s playing checkers with their scars, saying checkmate whenever they get out without a broken heart. Just to be clear I don’t want to get out without a broken heart. I intend to leave this life so shattered there’s gonna have to be a thousand separate heavens for all of my flying parts.”

KnowsWantHeartHas BeensHardEnoughPlayGamesHeavenWaitingWatchesClearMinutesBrokenThousandTwentiesFlyingThis LifeExtrasScarShatteredPlay HardCheckmateCheckersEnough Already
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“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”

PeopleKnowsBelieveLooksHeartKindHandsFallHouseWalksMetsRedPhonesHeavySuperpowerCapesGuttersMy SmileHeavy HeartPhone Booth
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“What I know about living is the pain is never just ours Every time I hurt I know the wound is an echo So I keep a listening to the moment the grief becomes a window When I can see what I couldn’t see before, through the glass of my most battered dream, I watched a dandelion lose its mind in the wind and when it did, it scattered a thousand seeds. So the next time I tell you how easily I come out of my skin, don’t try to put me back in just say here we are together at the window aching for it to all get better”

KnowsTryingMindI CanMomentsDreamPainTogetherNextLosesHurtGriefWindListeningThousandWindowSkinsGlassesSeedsWoundsGet BetterEchoesNext TimeBatteredDandelions
Author:Andrea Gibson
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