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Every lover is a storm chaser. Every good heart has lost its roof.

Andrea Gibson

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Andrea Gibson
Age: 49
Born: 1975
Born: August 13
Poet
Calais
Maine
Andrew Gibson
Lovers
Lost
Heart
Every
Chaser
Good
Chasers
Roof
Lover
Storm

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Everything but I LOVE YOU is small talk.
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I am wrong more often than i am writing and even then i am often wrong
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Touch me 'til my ribs become piano keys.
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I don't believe we're hateful. I think mostly we're just asleep, but the math adds up the same.
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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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A doctor once told me I feel too much. I said, so does god. that’s why you can see the grand canyon from the moon.
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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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Fear is only a verb if you let it be. Don't you dare let go of my hand!
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Sometimes the most healing thing to do is remind ourselves over and over and over, other people feel this too.
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We all have different reasons for forgetting to breathe.
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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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...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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Your ignorance keeps dismembering every piece of patience I have left.
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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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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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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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My heart is still a leather jacket I am waiting to give to someone sweet.
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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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How many wars will it take us to learn that only the dead return?
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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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