Quote

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.

Andrea Gibson

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Andrea Gibson
Age: 49
Born: 1975
Born: August 13
Poet
Calais
Maine
Andrew Gibson
Home
Sitting
Finger
Wanted
Poetry
Ghost
Basket
Nothing
Full
Direction
Baskets
Right
Head
Fingers
Glowing
Heart
Lasts
Towards
Bicycle
Like
Last
Heavy
Chest
Inspirational
Moon
Chests
Night
Saws
Pointing

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But when I thought I hit bottom, it started hitting back.
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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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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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Sometimes the break in your heart is like the hole in the flute. Sometimes it’s the place where the music comes through.
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And we were Banksy on an overpass in New Orleans spray-painting porch lights on the hurricane. We were welcome mats for the un-forgiven. We never sold our windpipes to make a living. We were the letters sent to the wrong address, but opened anyway. We opened anyway.
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Safety isn't always safe. You can find one on every gun.
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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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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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We all have different reasons for forgetting to breathe.
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What Gods do you believe in? I'll build you a temple of mirrors so you can see them.
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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.
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Someday we will dare to trade good for true
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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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Commit to loving yourself completely. It’s the most radical thing you will do in your lifetime.
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Before I die, I want to be somebody’s favorite hiding place, the place they can put everything they know they need to survive, every secret, every solitude, every nervous prayer, and be absolutely certain I will keep it safe. I will keep it safe.
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How many wars will it take us to learn that only the dead return?
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Everything but I LOVE YOU is small talk.
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I’ve written this poem before but always through a window, never through an open door.
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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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I have never met a heavy heart that wasn’t a phone booth with a red cape inside Some people will never understand the kind of superpower it takes for some people to just walk outside Some days I know my smile looks like the gutter of a falling house But my hands are always holding tight to the ripchord of believing
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