You are a fucking work of art.
There is quicksand in your brain, ready to pull you under.
There are galaxies in your heart waiting for you to lose yourself in them.
There are ghosts in the dark behind your knees - share their stories.
There are roots deep within your soul claiming you for history.
There is love percolating on your lips - let it out.
You are grander than you ever give yourself credit for.