Best 115 of Andrea Gibson quotes - MyQuotes

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Andrea Gibson
By Anonym 14 Sep

Andrea Gibson

Lately I've been thinking about who I want to love, and how I want to love, and why I want to love the way I want to love, and what I need to learn to love that way, and how I need to become to become the kind of love I want to be. And when I break it all down, when I whittle it into a single breath, it essentially comes out like this: before I die, I want to be somebody's favorite hiding place, the place they can put everything 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.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Andrea Gibson

I said to the sun, ‘Tell me about the big bang.’ The sun said, ‘it hurts to become.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Andrea Gibson

I’ve written this poem before but always through a window, never through an open door.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Andrea Gibson

I could never trust anyone who's well adjusted to a sick society.

By Anonym 18 Sep

Andrea Gibson

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.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Andrea Gibson

I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror
 on a day you’re feeling good. 
I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror
 on a day you’re feeling bad.
 I wanna know the first person who taught you your beauty
 could ever be reflected on a lousy piece of glass.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Andrea Gibson

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.

By Anonym 16 Sep

Andrea Gibson

For Jenn At 12 years old I started bleeding with the moon and beating up boys who dreamed of becoming astronauts. I fought with my knuckles white as stars, and left bruises the shape of Salem. There are things we know by heart, and things we don't. At 13 my friend Jen tried to teach me how to blow rings of smoke. I'd watch the nicotine rising from her lips like halos, but I could never make dying beautiful. The sky didn't fill with colors the night I convinced myself veins are kite strings you can only cut free. I suppose I love this life, in spite of my clenched fist. I open my palm and my lifelines look like branches from an Aspen tree, and there are songbirds perched on the tips of my fingers, and I wonder if Beethoven held his breath the first time his fingers touched the keys the same way a soldier holds his breath the first time his finger clicks the trigger. We all have different reasons for forgetting to breathe. But my lungs remember the day my mother took my hand and placed it on her belly and told me the symphony beneath was my baby sister's heartbeat. And I knew life would tremble like the first tear on a prison guard's hardened cheek, like a prayer on a dying man's lips, like a vet holding a full bottle of whisky like an empty gun in a war zone… just take me just take me Sometimes the scales themselves weigh far too much, the heaviness of forever balancing blue sky with red blood. We were all born on days when too many people died in terrible ways, but you still have to call it a birthday. You still have to fall for the prettiest girl on the playground at recess and hope she knows you can hit a baseball further than any boy in the whole third grade and I've been running for home through the windpipe of a man who sings while his hands playing washboard with a spoon on a street corner in New Orleans where every boarded up window is still painted with the words We're Coming Back like a promise to the ocean that we will always keep moving towards the music, the way Basquait slept in a cardboard box to be closer to the rain. Beauty, catch me on your tongue. Thunder, clap us open. The pupils in our eyes were not born to hide beneath their desks. Tonight lay us down to rest in the Arizona desert, then wake us washing the feet of pregnant women who climbed across the border with their bellies aimed towards the sun. I know a thousand things louder than a soldier's gun. I know the heartbeat of his mother. Don't cover your ears, Love. Don't cover your ears, Life. There is a boy writing poems in Central Park and as he writes he moves and his bones become the bars of Mandela's jail cell stretching apart, and there are men playing chess in the December cold who can't tell if the breath rising from the board is their opponents or their own, and there's a woman on the stairwell of the subway swearing she can hear Niagara Falls from her rooftop in Brooklyn, and I'm remembering how Niagara Falls is a city overrun with strip malls and traffic and vendors and one incredibly brave river that makes it all worth it. Ya'll, I know this world is far from perfect. I am not the type to mistake a streetlight for the moon. I know our wounds are deep as the Atlantic. But every ocean has a shoreline and every shoreline has a tide that is constantly returning to wake the songbirds in our hands, to wake the music in our bones, to place one fearless kiss on the mouth of that brave river that has to run through the center of our hearts to find its way home.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Andrea Gibson

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.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Andrea Gibson

It's your worst sin saving your f***ing life; It's the devil's knife carving holes into your soul so angels have a way to make their way inside; Life doesn't rhyme. Still, life is poetry, not math. The whole world's a stage, but the stage is a meditation mat. You tilt your head back; you breathe. when your heart is broken, you plant seeds in the cracks and you pray for rain.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Andrea Gibson

The holy have done more damage to this world than the devil ever could.

By Anonym 16 Sep

Andrea Gibson

I suffer from unrequited self love. I love myself, but I don’t Love myself back.

By Anonym 19 Sep

Andrea Gibson

What if I don't want the monster to stop being a monster? What if that's the only anchor I have left? What if my sanity depends on being able to point at a bad thing and say, That is the bad thing. Haven't I already lost enough time losing track of who the enemy is? I've spent half of my life not knowing the difference between killing myself and fighting back.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Andrea Gibson

Safety isn't always safe. You can find one on every gun.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Andrea Gibson

Hey, are you a boy or a — never mind, can I have a push on the swing?” And some day, y’all, when we grow up, it’s all gonna be that simple.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Andrea Gibson

I’d cut my soul into a million different pieces just to form a constellation to light your way home. I’d write love poems to the parts of yourself you can’t stand. I’d stand in the shadows of your heart and tell you I’m not afraid of your dark.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Andrea Gibson

My heart is still a leather jacket I am waiting to give to someone sweet.

By Anonym 20 Sep

Andrea Gibson

When your heart is broken you plant seeds in the cracks and you pray for rain. And you teach your sons and daughters there are sharks in the water but the only way to survive is to breathe deep and dive.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Andrea Gibson

Love isn't always magic. Sometimes it's just melting.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Andrea Gibson

Our insanity is not that we see people who aren’t there. It’s that we ignore the ones who are.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Andrea Gibson

Touch me 'til my ribs become piano keys.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Andrea Gibson

Any feminist who has ever taken the high road will tell you the high road gets backed up and sometimes we need to take a detour straight through the belly of uncensored rage.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Andrea Gibson

Do you think anger is a sincere emotion or the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain?

By Anonym 13 Sep

Andrea Gibson

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. When we all know everyone’s life has been hard enough already it’s hard to watch the game we make of love, like everyone’s playing checkers with their scars, saying checkmate whenever they get out without a broken heart. Just to be clear I don’t want to get out without a broken heart. I intend to leave this life so shattered there’s gonna have to be a thousand separate heavens for all of my flying parts.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Andrea Gibson

..when a war ends, what does that look like exactly? do the cells in the body stop detonating themselves? does the orphanage stop screaming for its mother? when the sand in the desert has been melted down to glass and our reflection is not something we can stand to look at does the white flag make for a perfect blindfold? yesterday i was told a story about this little girl in Iraq, six-years-old, who cannot fall asleep because when she does she dreams of nothing but the day she watched her dog eat her neighbor's corpse. if you told her war is over do you think she can sleep?

By Anonym 13 Sep

Andrea Gibson

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.

By Anonym 18 Sep

Andrea Gibson

Something difficult to stomach in this life is the fact that we might all learn and grow at a pace that will hurt people

By Anonym 15 Sep

Andrea Gibson

What Gods do you believe in? I'll build you a temple of mirrors so you can see them.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Andrea Gibson

You can have a cold war with yourself, even in the summertime

By Anonym 16 Sep

Andrea Gibson

I want you to tell me about every person you’ve ever been in love with. Tell me why you loved them, then tell me why they loved you. Tell me about a day in your life you didn’t think you’d live through. Tell me what the word home means to you and tell me in a way that I’ll know your mother’s name just by the way you describe your bedroom when you were eight. See, I want to know the first time you felt the weight of hate, and if that day still trembles beneath your bones. Do you prefer to play in puddles of rain or bounce in the bellies of snow? And if you were to build a snowman, would you rip two branches from a tree to build your snowman arms or would leave your snowman armless for the sake of being harmless to the tree? And if you would, would you notice how that tree weeps for you because your snowman has no arms to hug you every time you kiss him on the cheek? Do you kiss your friends on the cheek? Do you sleep beside them when they’re sad even if it makes your lover mad? Do you think that anger is a sincere emotion or just the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain? See, I wanna know what you think of your first name, and if you often lie awake at night and imagine your mother’s joy when she spoke it for the very first time. I want you to tell me all the ways you’ve been unkind. Tell me all the ways you’ve been cruel. Tell me, knowing I often picture Gandhi at ten years old beating up little boys at school. If you were walking by a chemical plant where smokestacks were filling the sky with dark black clouds would you holler “Poison! Poison! Poison!” really loud or would you whisper “That cloud looks like a fish, and that cloud looks like a fairy!” Do you believe that Mary was really a virgin? Do you believe that Moses really parted the sea? And if you don’t believe in miracles, tell me — how would you explain the miracle of my life to me? See, I wanna know if you believe in any god or if you believe in many gods or better yet what gods believe in you. And for all the times that you’ve knelt before the temple of yourself, have the prayers you asked come true? And if they didn’t, did you feel denied? And if you felt denied, denied by who? I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror on a day you’re feeling good. I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror on a day you’re feeling bad. I wanna know the first person who taught you your beauty could ever be reflected on a lousy piece of glass. If you ever reach enlightenment will you remember how to laugh? Have you ever been a song? Would you think less of me if I told you I’ve lived my entire life a little off-key? And I’m not nearly as smart as my poetry I just plagiarize the thoughts of the people around me who have learned the wisdom of silence. Do you believe that concrete perpetuates violence? And if you do — I want you to tell me of a meadow where my skateboard will soar. See, I wanna know more than what you do for a living. I wanna know how much of your life you spend just giving, and if you love yourself enough to also receive sometimes. I wanna know if you bleed sometimes from other people’s wounds, and if you dream sometimes that this life is just a balloon — that if you wanted to, you could pop, but you never would ‘cause you’d never want it to stop. If a tree fell in the forest and you were the only one there to hear — if its fall to the ground didn’t make a sound, would you panic in fear that you didn’t exist, or would you bask in the bliss of your nothingness? And lastly, let me ask you this: If you and I went for a walk and the entire walk, we didn’t talk — do you think eventually, we’d… kiss? No, wait. That’s asking too much — after all, this is only our first date.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Andrea Gibson

This is my body. It is no one's but mine.

By Anonym 16 Sep

Andrea Gibson

I listened to the bells on the door and stole more than enough bottles for myself to understand that everyone's chest is a living room wall with awkwardly placed photographs hiding fist-shaped holes.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Andrea Gibson

Rocking Chair Sad is. Scared is. That is all. The rocking chair I live in rocks like a paper boat. Sometimes I am all words, and no boot. No muster. No yes. All lag and tired pray, all miss my hometown. Miss the woods and the quiet porch and the talking slow. I caught the snow on my tongue. Snow angel, I. My heart a blue lamp. My mother calling me home. We cannot be called home enough times in our lives. Dear lonely, what is your name? I will open my front door and ring it through the streets.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Andrea Gibson

Autumn is the hardest season. The leaves are all falling, and they're falling like they're falling in love with the ground.

By Anonym 19 Sep

Andrea Gibson

They're gonna keep telling you are a crime of nature and you're gonna look at all your options, and choose conviction, choose to carve your own heart out of a side of a cliff, choose to spend your whole life telling secrets you owe no one till everyone, till there isn't anyone who can insult you by calling you what you are.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Andrea Gibson

We all have bullets beneath our skin we pray our lovers won't flinch at when they find.

By Anonym 15 Sep

Andrea Gibson

When your heart is broken, you plant seeds in the cracks and pray for rain.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Andrea Gibson

Sometimes the break in your heart is like the hole in the flute. Sometimes it’s the place where the music comes through.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Andrea Gibson

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.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Andrea Gibson

Sometimes the most healing thing to do is remind ourselves over and over and over, other people feel this too.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Andrea Gibson

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.

By Anonym 13 Sep

Andrea Gibson

Everything but "I LOVE YOU" is small talk.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Andrea Gibson

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!

By Anonym 16 Sep

Andrea Gibson

I want you to tell me about every person you’ve ever been in love with. Tell me why you loved them, then tell me why they loved you. I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror on a day you’re feeling good. I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror on a day you’re feeling bad. I wanna know the first person who taught you your beauty could ever be reflected on a lousy piece of glass. See, I wanna know more than what you do for a living. I wanna know how much of your life you spend just giving, and if you love yourself enough to also receive sometimes. I wanna know if you bleed sometimes from other people’s wounds, and if you dream sometimes that this life is just a balloon — that if you wanted to, you could pop, but you never would ‘cause you’d never want it to stop. If a tree fell in the forest and you were the only one there to hear — if its fall to the ground didn’t make a sound, would you panic in fear that you didn’t exist, or would you bask in the bliss of your nothingness?

By Anonym 15 Sep

Andrea Gibson

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.'

By Anonym 16 Sep

Andrea Gibson

,Do we really believe our need for Prozac has nothing t do with Fallujah, with Kabul, with the Mexican border, with the thousands of U.S. school kids bleeding budget cuts that will never heal to fuel war tanks?

By Anonym 13 Sep

Andrea Gibson

If you were to press your heart close up against somebody else’s heart eventually your hearts will start beating at the same time. And two little babies in an incubator, their hearts will beat at the same time. Love that. So if you have somebody in your life that is prone to anxiety, like myself, and if you happen to be a calm person, you could come up and hug me heart to heart and my heart hopefully would slow to yours. And I just love that idea. Or maybe yours would speed up to mine. But either way, we’ll be there together.

By Anonym 18 Sep

Andrea Gibson

Some people will never understand the kind of superpower it takes for some people to just walk outside.

By Anonym 14 Sep

Andrea Gibson

Someday we will dare to trade good for true

By Anonym 15 Sep

Andrea Gibson

You have a heart of gold and I am kneeling in your bloodstream panning for the only thing that has ever felt like home.