Kellie Elmore

Love is the castle, doubt is the moat, desire is the paddle and hope is the boat.

...and should I die in her care, I would leave smiling because, I will linger in the hills beside her...

The train blows, just when I was forgetting. Forgetting that I am here alone. And I wonder if those cars got held up by its passing, just as I have yours.

I miss your face. That big bright smile. You always had it, in any weather. It's hard for me to find one these days. These cold November days. Except when I think of you.

What a more beautiful world this would be if we didn't wait til people were dead before we honored their spirit.

Hold love like a butterfly, with gentle preservation. Hold life like the reigns of a wild stallion, with fierce assertion. Encompass that, and you find the nectar of the immortal spirit.

...and the smoke that creeps off the tip of my cigarette and into the dim, scattered strands of light leaking off the moon, in through the clefts in the curtains, is much like my spirit trying to escape the burn of yesterday's presence.

It...whatever 'it' is, has swallowed me and I lie here in the pit of its cold dark stomach being eaten alive by its bile and I...I don't even know if I want to be saved.

The train blows through towndelivering reality,slapping my face and screaming,__ou are alone__ose colored memories drown,taking their last breath.

You're surrounded by people and voices and noises, but there you are, alone and trembling inside. And you want to be invisible. (thinking) Please, don't notice me.

This town of churches and dreams; this town I thought I would lose myself in, with its backward ways and winding roads leading to nowhere; but, I found myself instead. -Magic in the Backyard (excerpt from American Honey)

Sometimes you have to put yourself in other people__ shoes to really understand the hardships of their souls.

I firmly disbelieve in death. A spirit never dies. Where it wanders when it leaves the flesh, is a cognitive proposition.

If we change our thoughts from 'it's too late' to, 'there's still hope', we might see some change in the world.

I don't want someone to believe my lies, I need someone to accept my truths.

Resting on the roots of this old oak I lean back against his knotted trunk, shine my granny smith on my sleeve And ponder the days_

Maybe Heaven will be a library and then I might get to finish my __o-read_ list.

Maybe Heaven will be a library. Then I will be able to finish my to-read list.