Nikita Gill Quotes

Only the brave and the broken are kind in this world.

People aren't born sad; we make them that way.

Some people are born with tornadoes in their lives, but constellations in their eyes. Other people are born with stars at their feet, but their souls are lost at sea.

The Sun and the Moon

Aim for a love
that reminds you
of the devotion
the sun has to the moon.
Whether she is in fractions
or she is whole,
he still shrouds his intense light
in the darkness of the night.
To give her the entire sky,
without judgment,
so she can shine in any way she wants to.
You deserve someone
who adores you
on the days you are
in broken fragments too.
You deserve someone
who lets you glow
in every way
you need to.

The thing I admire most
about you
is no matter how hard,
or how much the world
has tried to
beat you,
break you,
destroy you,
and throw you to the wolves
you are still here,
turning all your pain
all your suffering
into armor,
into determination,
into weapons
and earning the respect
of that same pack of wolves
that were meant to rip you
limb from limb.

...she speaks words so powerful the wind etches them inside the atmosphere for women to remember through history. 'I exist. Outside of being a mother, a wife, a sister, a daughter, I exist. I exist as a human first, as a being that experiences joy and suffering, beauty and learning, life and tragedy. I exist because the universe chose to put me here for a purpose higher than my relation to men. I exist because a wise old woman gave me a gift and now magic runs through my veins. So the problem is not my existence as half dragon, half girl/ The problem is how you perceive it as so small, you do not believe I can exist at all apart from through my bonds with men.

You are still the kindest thing that ever happened to me, even if that is not how our tale is told.

To my children, I will say, 'Fill your skin with kindness and find solace in your solitude. It takes bravery to be kind. But to be brave you will need to know how to stand for something even if you are completely alone.

what does being a dragonheart mean to you? surviving / having flames in your veins / never-ending loyalty / powerful alone & with like-hearted people / loving fiercely / strong-spined / dangerous / celebrating yourself / celebrating others / magic even without spells / protective / gentle but armored / light-giver / reigning supremely / what fairy tales are made of / queen of your own life / no doubts about your own worth / forever valiant / tower-breaker / kingdom-shaker / standing up for others / resisting over & over / taking charge of your narrative / bravery beyond measure / not giving negativity a seat at your table / facing the fire head-on / prioritizing yourself / story-hungry / made of gold / dream-chaser / sea storm courage / voice-reclaimer / war-hearted / flower-hearted / RELENTLESS

These are girls made of dark lace and witchcraft and a little bit of vice.

Your heart will fix itself. It's your mind you need to worry about. Your mind where you locked the memories, your mind where you have kept pieces of the ones that hurt you, that still cut through you like shards of glass. Your mind will keep you up at night, make you cry, destroy you over and over again. You need to convince your mind that it has to let go…because your heart already knows how to heal.

These are women made of terrible tempests and savage storms and the untamed unwanted.

If you think the value of a woman is only in the curve of her hips and the shape of her breasts, you do not understand how to read beneath her jagged lines, the sacred geometry that make up her glorious heart and her beautiful mind.

I hope you summon your courage and you invite your demons to tea, and you learn to listen to all their stories.

We write songs about it and poetry, and sweet stories, but people hurting each other will never become pretty. Every time a heart breaks and repairs, there are scars.

As leaves cover the forest floor in a carpet of vibrant rusts, orange and gold, autumn proves that sometimes death too can be a beautiful thing.

just say the word," she tells me. there is something awe-inspiring about the way she always rushes in, arrows blazing, ready to defend my honor. she knows i've got this. i have dozens of scars to prove my resilience & i trusted her enough to show them to her. "just say it," she tells me. she only wants to reassure me she would throw herself to the wolves regardless.- huntress.

It was the way your lip curled on the word "promise" that makes me uncomfortable. There are only three other people in my life that have ever used that word, and they are all strangers now.

Love yourself loudly, dangerously, everywhere people have been afraid to love you, afraid to ask the way to cherish you, afraid to hold you. Love yourself most in these places, because who can be a better teacher to others in how to love you than yourself.

There is an art in the emptiness of all natural things.

Her mother told her
she could grow up to be
anything she wanted to be,
so she grew up to become
the strongest of the strong,
the strangest of the strange,
the wildest of the wild,
the wolf leading the wolves.

You

And first,
before him
and before her
and before them
there was you.

Never forget that.

A clever woman is more lethal than a freshly crafted magic wand, and that is why she is fear.

The loneliest thing you can ever do is take very instance where you should grow and waste it by only thinking how could this happen to you?

She's a woman in love and is loved in return. That is a powerful thing.

The ghosts of all the women you used to be are all so proud of who you have become, storm child made of wild and flame.

Anxious people are resorceful, they need to know how to keep the sea of panic at bay so they do not drown.

The last time you kiss someone does not have to feel like you are losing them in a war.

She is unpredictable, and unpredictable is another word for 'threat' when a woman wears it well.

Trauma isn't going to win today. Remember how Daphne turned into the laurel tree? This is what you must do too. Form your own roots, feed from the earth that still loves you. Remember how.

The saddest word
in the whole wide world
is the word almost.

He was almost in love.
She was almost good for him.
He almost stopped her.
She almost waited.
He almost lived.
They almost made it.

And you say you are broken, but broken mirrors like you create the most beautiful patterns of light.

Nothing makes her want to be less adventurous or give up her eternal search for something to quench her wanderlust.

Some things are beautiful, but they are beautiful in the way of the sun. If you fly too close, they will melt your wings and send you plummeting into the sea.

You fell in love with a storm. Did you really think you would get out unscathed?

Once you were made of sky.
Do you remember that?

Girls like her were born in a storm. They have lightning in their souls. Thunder in their hearts. And chaos in their bones.

In there, religion nodded knowingly, 'Confess every sin, all of them, lay your heart before God, you will feel lighter.' I tried but I also kept sinning, so the light never came-

I lure myself into a spandex trap and I text Amanda, "Is this what death feels like?" Alone in my room I say, "God, is this a poem? It's uncomfortable. It feels like a poem." God never answers, which is what really makes it poetry.

You need not fear the wolves you hide in your soul. They were made not to hurt you, but to protect you against this world.

If a woman does not fit the shape of what you think a woman should, if a woman is not obedient, does not see things the way you do, if a woman is too independent to need anything more than herself, does she automatically become a threat filled with such terror to you?

Softer memories once lived there.
Where there is now burning.
Where there is now blood.

That was where childhood held you.
Instead there is a forgetting.
Instead there is a fireflood.

You have never forgotten how home was more
than just a language you grew inside your mouth
before you said it in a way your tongue bled.

When it lived as a place
outside of your body and more
than just in your heart and head.

Where you once taught your children
how to speak and walk and sang them
lullabies till they fell asleep in their beds.

How it has become a legend,
just a holy story you pass from
praying hands to praying hands.

Where once you built hallowed walls
there is now simply scorched earth
and bloodied sands.

A memory of the scared land
that it once was before your whole world
was set completely to flames

How your heart breaks everyday
because home, home no longer remembers
how to say your name.

Home was your refuge, and I wish they would see.
because after cruelly taking it from you,
they call you refugee.

Maybe living your truth will not make you happy all the time, but it will make you happy every day.

Did you think they did it alone?
Built whole armies,
and conquered thrones?

Constructed promised lands
that would outlive the sun
resurrected prosperity from ash and bone?

A crest is not just a manmade thing
it is also created by generations of women
who wield swords through guile and letters.

Show me your kings,
and I will show you the queens that willed them,
that bred them, and taught them to do better.

The river
takes what she wants,
does what she desires
and washes over anything
that stands in her way.

You are permitted to be cruel sometimes, and you are allowed to fall apart, and feel every emotion they tell you not to feel.

I wonder how many people
I know are out there,
battling demons and leviathans
alone on this cold night.

How many people I know
who tell me they are fine,
and know how to expertly hide
the cry for help behind their eyes.

How many are just
a helping hand away
from a moment that could
better their entire life.

And how many will never ask,
instead ball up these terrible things
inside themselves thinking they
are all alone in their fight.

It is a sobering thought:
Everyone we love and know
and hate are all suffering
in some great or small way.

This is why we must
be swift with our kindness.
make greater efforts at compassion
when we ask someone if they are okay.

And somehow,
you still
genuinley think
that magic does not exist,
that fairytales aren't real,

that the way people
find each other
at just the right time
at just the right moment
isn't the most powerful sorcery.

Beauty and Bravery
When I set out to find my father, I was not being brave. I was acting out of fear or losing the only parent I ever had. They may want you to believe I was simple being brave, but anxiety makes more heroes than history would care to repeat.

There is still love to be found here. It just needs someone to whisper it back to life. This is spell work. It is time-consuming, full of errors . . . . . . but it is not impossible.

Perfection in imperfection. Someone whose flaws work well with yours.

The gods are fickle. The universe is completely random in the way it functions. But you know what we can do to make sense of the randomness? Be kind to each other. Help each other. Bring each other peace. I spoke to Persephone last night, and even the dreaded queen of the Underworld agrees.

Take everything that
tries to destroy you
curse you,
and turn it
into something beautiful
by incantation

People talk about love like it is patient and kind. Love is also dark. It is ferocious and angry and destructive.

I am so afraid of disappointing the people I love, I often forget that I am someone I love too. And I need kindness just as much as I believe the people I love do.

Sometimes you are going to miss a person who was an almost to you. And feel sad because there is no name for that feeling. You just feel it in a way that makes you tired to your very bones.

When I was a little girl, I had a friend and sometimes I wondered if he was born on the day the Titanic sank.

I hope our daughters are born with so much fire in their souls, they could put volcanoes and stars to shame.

I am the girl who spends hours huddled in a corner of a library, trying to find what you love the most about Marlowe, just so I can write you a poem worthy of Shakespeare. I've made books my lovers, hours my enemies and you the only story.

And they didn't spend years painting your soul into masterpiece-like existence for you to waste it on someone who doesn't appreciate you.

We have all taken turns being Red Riding Hood and we have all been the wolf.

Listen to me, girl,
you have castles inside your bones,
coronets in your heart,
if he threatens you with battle,
you raise him a whole war,
the last time I checked,
Queens cower before no man.

She does not have the power to heal as Apollo does, but she does have the capacity to turn them into something that heals itself. Warrior. Hold your monsters close. Turn them into your magic.

That sadness that you do not speak of,
that haunts you in the ache of midnight.
Give it to me.
I want to heal that.

As my common sense pressed her fingertips together, 'Keep a journal and put all of your feelings inside it,' and I made an effort, I really did, but my feelings are so many that even a hundred journals later I am not empty-

Grief makes unlikely warriors out of us all.

... I am done being in love with you."
"Why?"
"I am in love with someone else. Someone who needs it more than you."
"Who?"
"Me.

I'm sorry it took me so long to understand. And I am sorry that I ended up understanding too well. I am still selfish and gas prices are still high and now I spend too much time having to wrap my arms around myself to ever let go long enough to hold someone else together. I should have called your mother. I should have called your mother. I should have called your mother.

Trauma when left untreated has the capacity to make a villain out of you.

We are the blood
of the witches
you thought were dead.

We carry witchcraft in our bones
whilst magic still sings
inside out heads.

When the witch hunters
imprisoned out ancestors
when they tried to burn the magic away.

Someone should have
warned them
that magic cannot be tamed.

Because you cannot burn away
what has always
been aflame.

Everyone has forgotten that Lucifer was beautiful too and God's favorite till he fell.

She is alone
And oh
how brilliantly she shines

Survival

Everyone you love
is capable of doing
great and terrible things
things you never
thought they could do
when they are clawing,
panicking,
breaking
to survive.
Remember this
when you watch them
at their very worst moments,
And forgive them
their survival too.

You are no one's
other half.

You are a whole,
an enough,
a complete being
in and of yourself.

Falling in love
with someone
should never ever
change that about you.

Two wholes make a whole.
Don't let society's silly sayings
tell you anything
otherwise.

So sing a soft lullaby to the things you hate about yourself, and get to know them too.

Let it hurt. Let it bleed. Let it heal. And let it go.

How dare you tell me 'I am not like most girls,'
when those 'girls' you refer to
are my sisters and mothers, my friends,
the very solace and the kindness I have sought
when the worst things in my life have happened?

How dare you assume
I should take that as a compliment,
and beam at you like it is praise
when you are alienating me
from the very core
of my proudly female being?

There are a thousand ways
to tell me you love me,
and making my sisters small
to make me big
isn't one of them.

Tell me you love me, but not because I am different.

Tell me you love me, just because you do.

- But what could you possibly see in her?
- Everything, I see everything in her, because the stardust that makes her is the same stardust that makes me.

Love someone who is kinder to you than you are to yourself.

The Coven

When they break your heart, run to a sister who will stroke your hair and remind you of what you are. When no one else understands, run to a sister who will hold you close and heal you with the kindest words. When the wound is fresh, your sisters are the only ones who know how to enchant away the pain. When a man scares you enough to choke on your own tears, text your sisters and they will hex him into hell for you. This is what covens will do: protect each other from the world, for this is what sisters do.

And when the burning inside your chest claws, insults you as forgotten, hideous, unloved every single night, you learn how to create iron, then a sword, and challenge those demons to a fight.

One day, a knight in shining armour may find my daughter,
and offer to save her from her life, her problems, her troubles.
In that situation, I hope that I have raised a girl
that she smiles coolly and tells him,
'No, thank you. I've very much got this.'
Then puts on her armour and rides off into the sunset alone
to save herself.

Some people will always taste like fire and leave the ones that love them tasting like ash.

I used to only pick up a pen for myself but now I pick one up for you too. Is there such a thing as an unselfish love poem? I don't know, but I'm trying.

But recuperation means different things to unalike people. It means survival to some. It means healing to others. And to others still it just means alive .

That idea...it was you.
You are the universe's fairytale come true.

I carried salt in my pockets. I pried nails out of the floorboards. I built a world where no one could keep up with me. I made a myth out of myself in my youth and spent the rest of my life trying to claw my way back.

Why be a half-finished poem in some forgotten poet's story, when one can be an odyssey in and of herself, part magic, part villain, part Goddess, part lover.

A story is no small thing.

The monsters were never
under my bed.
Because the monsters
were inside my head.


I fear no monsters,
for no monsters I see.
Because all this time
the monster has been me.

We have calcium in our bones, iron in our veins, carbon in our souls, and nitrogen in our brains. 93 percent stardust, with souls made of flames, we are all just stars that have people names.

And she needs no prince or knight to save her, because her might is enough to tame dragons.

And I return home always. Because love's call has always been stronger than the moon's.

Remember, there are beginnings in endings, through destruction there comes life.

Defined by no man, you are your own story,
blazing through the world, turning history into herstory.
And when they dare to tell you about
all the things you cannot be,
you smile and tell them,
"I am both war and woman and you cannot stop me

My Fairy Godmother is my heart sustaining me.

I had hoped one day to find someone who loves my monsters, the wolves that I feed, the demons I sing to sleep, the tiger that is my caged heart, the parts of me I do not talk about. I prayed and wished and yearned until I realized that I had already found her within me.

Every woman is both match and spark, a light for each other from the dark.

There are human beings in this world who are soft enough to feel every terrible thing that happens so deeply. And are still brave enough to remain constant and suffer for those who need them the most. Even the stars blink in awe of the gleam of their souls.

My darling, he is just a boy. How can he possibly begin to appreciate the constellations you leave in your wake, or the stardust in your bones, when he has yet to realize just what it means to be in love with a girl like you?