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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.
Andrea Gibson
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Andrea Gibson
Age: 49
Born: 1975
Born: August 13
Poet
Calais
Maine
Andrew Gibson
Hear
Lines
Kissed
Inspirational
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Left
Sexy
Night
Mouth
Every
Breathe
Time
Mouths
Poetry
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I thought, The flowers, save the flowers... I never thought for a second we wouldn't save the people
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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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The holy have done more damage to this world than the devil ever could.
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Remind me that the most fertile lands were built by the fires of volcanoes.
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If love did not exist, I would be so goddamn sane.
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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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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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How many wars will it take us to learn that only the dead return?
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You never wish on shooting stars. You wish on the ones that have the courage to shine where they are.
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Yesterday i carved your name into the surface of an ice cube then held it against my chest til it melted into my aching pores today i cried so hard the neighbors knocked on my door and asked if I wanted to borrow some sugar.
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We all have bullets beneath our skin we pray our lovers won't flinch at when they find.
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If you ever reach enlightenment. will you remember how to laugh?
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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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This is my body. It is no one's but mine.
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The trauma said, ‘Don’t write these poems. Nobody wants to hear you cry about the grief inside your bones.
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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.
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None of us are pretty, but our ugly has an alibi.
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Everyone’s chest is a living room wall with awkwardly placed photographs hiding fist-shaped holes.
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Every lover is a storm chaser. Every good heart has lost its roof.
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