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I’ve written this poem before but always through a window, never through an open door.

Andrea Gibson

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Andrea Gibson
Age: 49
Born: 1975
Born: August 13
Poet
Calais
Maine
Andrew Gibson
Door
Window
Doors
Open
Written
Always
Never
Poem

More quotes by Andrea Gibson

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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 heart is a parachute that has never opened in time.
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When your heart is broken, you plant seeds in the cracks and pray for rain.
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You can have a cold war with yourself, even in the summertime
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Remember, you didn’t come here to write your heart out. You came to write it in.
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Do you know they found land mines in woman's souls.
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To think, a sweater, is made entirely of knots. My stomach could clothe a village.
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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.
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You have a heart of gold and I am kneeling in your bloodstream panning for the only thing that has ever felt like home.
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That night when you kissed me, I left a poem in your mouth, and you can hear some of the lines every time you breathe out.
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You can find me on the moon waxing and waning. My heart full of petals, every single one begging 'Love me, love me, love me. Whoever I am. Whoever I become.'
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Know you belong here. You belong here and everything you feel is okay.
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None of us are pretty, but our ugly has an alibi.
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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.
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We have to create it is the only thing louder than destruction.
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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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If love did not exist, I would be so goddamn sane.
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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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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.
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This is my body. It is no one's but mine.
Andrea Gibson