What we pay for in attention We purchase in identity What we consume by choice We create from inevitably The person we see today Is a byproduct of yesterday And who we'll be tomorrow Is paid in full each day—invariably
Oftentimes, taking care of others looks a lot like taking care of yourself.
Isn’t it funny How we hide our faults And then wonder why It feels like Nobody Really sees us
The size of your love for another Isn’t equal to the size of love the other receives The most beautiful love letter ever written Pales in comparison to a simple hug from the one that’s right If there’s anything I’ve learned from love in this life It’s that love, like death, isn’t something you get to decide
How do you tell someone How to break free from the grips of hell When they’re the one With burns Cuts Scrapes Bruises And gashes; And all you’ve got are words From unblemished pages And pure intentions
Be someone who’s missed They said So I spent my life Collecting notifications From distant platforms To prove to myself That people think of me I thought But something was missed
When someone needs help But, they aren't asking For the help they need Because they need help Asking for that kind of help I can't help but to hurt How to make sense Of what's helping too much And what's only going to hurt When hurt is what helps And help is what hurts It has to come from them But, what if it can't?