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How many wars will it take us to learn that only the dead return?

Andrea Gibson

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Andrea Gibson
Age: 49
Born: 1975
Born: August 13
Poet
Calais
Maine
Andrew Gibson
War
Take
Many
Wars
Return
Dead
Learn

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I intend to leave this life so shattered there's gonna have to be a thousand separate heavens for all of my flying parts
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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.
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So guess what, if I ever have my own team I am picking everyone first even the worst kid and the kid with the stutter like a skipping record 'cause I know all of us are scratched, even if you can't hear it when we speak.
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We were all born on days when too many people died in terrible ways, but you still have to call it a birthday.
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We all have different reasons for forgetting to breathe.
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Your ignorance keeps dismembering every piece of patience I have left.
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You can stand on the cliff of my heart and shout nothing but ‘ugly’ through me. I promise all I will echo back is ‘Beauty, beauty, you have always been beauty
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The holy have done more damage to this world than the devil ever could.
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I am living today as someone I had not yet become yesterday and tonight I will borrow only pieces of who I am today to carry with me to tomorrow.
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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.
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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.
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I have always been comfortable weathering the storm. I’d like to get more comfortable weathering the sunny day.
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We're boxed in and labeled before we're ever able to speak who we believe we are or who we dream we'll become.
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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.
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...And for every day you paint the war, take a week and paint the beauty, the color, the shape of the landscape you’re marching towards. Everyone knows what you’re against show them what you’re for.
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If you ever reach enlightenment. will you remember how to laugh?
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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.
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My heart is a parachute that has never opened in time.
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But when I thought I hit bottom, it started hitting back. There is no bruise like the bruise loneliness kicks into your spine.
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My mouth is a fire escape. The words coming out don’t care that they are naked. There is something burning in there.
Andrea Gibson