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I've never walked home wearing just a pink robe and a pair of slippers.

Jessica Sorensen

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Jessica Sorensen
Age: 41
Born: 1983
Born: June 2
Novelist
Home
Robe
Never
Slippers
Robes
Pink
Pair
Pairs
Walked
Wearing

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He knows what I'm about to say--he always does. He is my best friend, my soul mate. In a perfect world, full of roses and sunshine we'd be together, but this is full of broken.
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Stay here, baby he whispers, like he can read my thoughts. Trust me, okay? Don't run
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No. I just never wanted to throw them away. Even if they were broken. I still loved them.
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The first time I'd ever felt happy-and I mean ever-was when I'd been lying in my bed, staring out my window, watching the stars shine harmoniosly with one another.
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You left me, ripped out my heart, and then came back acting like a robot, and you know what? We made it through. You and I, good or bad, belong together. We make each other whole.
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Blinded by the opaque veil of mortality, her eyes are always sealed, like a tomb She wants to know- wants to feel that fire, the brightness of the moon So she searches for light, only to realize its in her, like an ember equipped to ignite.
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No one has ever needed me before because I’ve never let anyone that far in.
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That’s you. Callie, you’re the only person that’s ever made me feel happy about anything. That night you saved me, you changed something in me—you made me want to live.
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I walk out the door with a heavy feeling in my heart as another secret falls on top of it.
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Seize the day, take hold of it, and make it whatever you want.
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He tastes like mint and need, as he overpowers me with his tongue.
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Maybe if I try hard enough, we'll fall into each other and become one single person and we can share our pain instead of carrying it by ourselves.
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People are running to and from class and I just want to yell, Slow down and wait for the world to catch up!
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I fall down and my palms split open against the gravel. Injuries on the outside are easy to endure and I get up without hesitation.
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In the midst of a foggy field, the answers are hidden But the impossible journey deems them forbidden. The Reaper of Death, the Angel of Life. They walk together in day and night.
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You really need stitches, she tells me.Or you're going to have a scar. I try not to laugh. Stitches aren't going to help. They fix skin, cuts, wounds, heal stuff on the outside. Everything broken with me is on the inside. I can handle scars, especially one's on the outside.
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But sometimes stuff happens and we find ourselves lost, and suddenly we're standing in a place we don't recognize and can't remember walking-or falling-there, and we're unsure how to get back or if we even want to.
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It’s a moment I’ll remember forever, because it belongs to me.
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Just because it's broken doesn't mean it loses its importance.
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Like a feather in a dust storm, with no direction The Raven flies through life, helpless and omitted Until night declares and the wind expires. Then it flies to the land of stones and etchings And becomes an Ember, breaking away
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