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Touch me ‘til my ribs become piano keys, ‘til there is sheet music scrolled across the inside of my lungs.

Andrea Gibson

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Andrea Gibson
Age: 49
Born: 1975
Born: August 13
Poet
Calais
Maine
Andrew Gibson
Across
Keys
Inside
Ribs
Become
Sheet
Music
Lungs
Sheets
Piano
Touch

More quotes by Andrea Gibson

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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.
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Our insanity is not that we see people who aren’t there. It’s that we ignore the ones who are.
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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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Safety isn't always safe. You can find one on every gun.
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But whatever However Whenever this ends I want you to know That right now I love you forever
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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!
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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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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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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?
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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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Someday we will dare to trade good for true
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Everyone’s chest is a living room wall with awkwardly placed photographs hiding fist-shaped holes.
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When your heart is broken, you plant seeds in the cracks and pray for rain.
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Remind me that the most fertile lands were built by the fires of volcanoes.
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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.
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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 all have different reasons for forgetting to breathe.
Andrea Gibson
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The holy have done more damage to this world than the devil ever could.
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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 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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