eighteen years Quotes

“i love good cries,
loud sobs that soak your pillow
that kind that come at the end
of a perfect book

you're gasping for air
as droplets of salt water
trickle down your cheeks
into the corners of your mouth
as your chest rises and falls
and your vision is blurred
by the tears

but your mind is so clear
and your every thought
in that moment
feels so meaningful
and important and right

it feels okay to just
let it all out
it makes you feel like
you are free”
― Madisen Kuhn, Eighteen Years

“you clutter my mind
thoughts of you, thoughts of me with you
thoughts that keep me from rest
that ull me to sleep at night
your words are like butter
they're smooth and they're rich
and they make the bitter bits better”
― Madisen Kuhn, Eighteen Years

“I don't want to sleep / because I don't want to wake up / and be the same person (from 'you hurt me')”
― Madisen Kuhn, eighteen years

“I am slowly learning to disregard the insatiable desire to be special. I think it began, the soft piano ballad of epiphanic freedom that danced in my head, when you mentioned that "Van Gogh was her thing" while I stood there in my overall dress, admiring his sunflowers at the art museum. And then again on South Street, while we thumbed through old records and I picked up Morrissey and you mentioned her name like it was stuck in your teeth. Each time, I felt a paintbrush on my cheeks, covering my skin in grey and fading me into a quiet, concealed background that hummed everything you've ever loved has been loved before, and everything you are has already been on an endless loop. It echoed in your wrists that I stared at, walking (home) in the middle of the street, and I felt like a ghost moving forward in an eternal line, waiting to haunt anyone who thought I was worth it. But no one keeps my name folded in their wallet. Only girls who are able to carve their names into paintings and vinyl live in pockets and dust bunnies and bathroom mirrors. And so be it, that I am grey and humming in the background. I am forgotten Sundays and chipped fingernail polish and borrowed sheets. I'm the song you'll get stuck in your head, but it will remind you of someone else. I am 2 in the afternoon, I am the last day of winter, I am a face on the sidewalk that won't show up in your dreams. And I am everywhere, and I am nothing at all.”
― Madisen Kuhn, eighteen years

“Don't forget to get away every once in awhile,
To lose yourself in a book
Or in the woods behind your home

Ride your bike into the sunset,
Sit on your front steps and count the cars passing by,
Lay on your roof and gaze up at the night sky,
Drive along backroads with the windows rolled down
Listening to nothing but the sound of rushing wind

I hope you take the time to be alone,
To sort through the cluttered shelves of your heart

I hope you take the time to be silent,
To close your eyes and just listen

I hope you take the time to be still,
To quiet your mind and experience the beauty
Of simply Being”
― Madisen Kuhn, eighteen years

“I fear the birds will be able to love you better than I have.”
― Madisen Kuhn, eighteen years

“You have to fight to be alright / it may not be easy, / but it's worth it (from 'you will always be good enough')”
― Madisen Kuhn, eighteen years

“dark empty rooms / broken mirrors / and trashcans filled / with crumpled lists of mistakes (from 'chasing light')”
― Madisen Kuhn, eighteen years

“why would you keep searching
for stars in the shadows
when there's already a sun
shining in your sky?”
― Madisen Kuhn, eighteen years