Tyler Knott Gregson Quotes

And the sound of my smile
will be the alarm clock
to your morning ears.

Do broken pianos play broken songs? Do they have busted melodies for busted hearts? Is there a song living inside it that's waiting to get out? Her keys are shattered and her notes long since silent but I can still hear her song. Just listen, just listen.

What an utter disgrace it would be to find something truly magic and spend any time at all pretending and trying to convince yourself it is all just an unbelievably orchestrated and beautifully choreographed illusion.

Wherever I am,
whatever I am doing,
you are in it all.

Come here
and take off your clothes
and with them
every single worry
you have ever carried.
My fingertips on your back
will be the very last thing
you will feel
before sleeping
and the sound of my smile
will be the alarm clock
to your morning ears.
Come here
and take off your clothes
and with them
the weight of every yesterday
that snuck atop your shoulders
and declared them home.
My whispers will be the soundtrack
to your secret dreams
and my hand
the anchor to the life
you will open your eyes to.
Come here
and take off your clothes.

When I'm an old man,
I don't want to count the years,
we forgot to share.

I would rather hurt,
and walk through the flames you leave,
than never feel you.

I have blisters on my feet from dancing alone with your ghost.

Because of you I can feel myself slowly but surely becoming the me I have always dreamed of being.

If you give me home
I will give you adventure.
It's both we can have.

Part those sheets
like holy waters
and I
will worship you skin
like a born-again
believer.

For those of you with a guy best friend, ask yourself this: is he really just been your best friend? Has he always been your best friend? Is that how he sees it? Is that how you want to see it? I firmly believe that guys and girls can be great friends without love getting in the way but there are those couples who do fall for their best friends. Are you one of them?

I stare at your lips
and fall in love with the way
they form what you say.

Sometimes
the only way
to catch
your breath
is to
lose it
completely.

Find my hand in the darkness and if we cannot find the light, we will always make our own.

Look up more than down. See more than say. Listen more than speak. Hope more than dread. Believe more than criticize. Yes more than no. No more than maybe. Laugh more than cry. Love more than hate. See. More. See.

When you have swam in the sea
a lake will no longer do;
everyone else has been a pond
but the ocean was always you.

Promise me you will not spend so much time treading water and trying to keep your head above the waves that you forget, truly forget, how much you have always loved to swim.

I would rather wear honest tears than the most beautiful and elaborately faked smile.

What if time stole
my tenderness,
what if I am worn through
and grace was wasted
in the waiting?
can I climb out
of what you have buried
me under?
When will it stop feeling
like I am breathing
though a cloth soaked
in salt water?
When will home
stop being a silent cemetery
of every wish
I've had to bury?

I am yours
and I will whisper it
and shout it
and write it
and carve it into my skin
if only blood
would tell you
the truth you need to see.
I am yours
and I have never
been anyone's before.

Just keep waking up,
dragging yourself out of bed.
It will get better.

I am made of more;
More than tears, more than heartache,
More than all of this.

Photos I'm not in
and memories we don't share,
haunt my lonely eyes.

I am the empty sound
that fills the space between two
when neither one
knows what to say.
I am the moment before
the faint,
the all black and soundless fall,
I am the echoless dark
of far off space.
I am the way it never needs sound to shine.

Be gentle,
always delicate
with every soul
you meet,
for every single morning
you wake up,
there is someone
Wishing,
silently
and secretly,
that they
had not.

There is more light than darkness, there has always been.

Lay down your roots now,
let them wrap tight around mine,
sink deep in the soil.

You have never
had to steal
my breath,
or take it away,
somehow
you have always
managed to convince me
to hand it over
freely.

There is no difference:
Love is love and love is love.
We are all the same.

Sometimes you look up and there just seems to be so many more stars that ever before. More. They burn brighter and they shine longer and they never vanish into your periphery when you turn your head. It's as if they come out for us and to remind us that their light took so long to come to us, that if we never had the patience to wait, we never would have seen them here, tonight, like this.
That as much as it hurts, sometimes it's all you can do, wait, endure and keep shining, knowing that eventually, your light will reach where it is supposed to reach and shine for who it is supposed to shine for.
It is never easy, but it is always worth it.

Will you tolerate
the strangeness inside of me,
the quirks of my soul?

She is she alone,
and never needs help from me
to be all she is.

Press your ear to my chest and listen
where a heartbeat should sing you will hear
the melancholy songs of tired whales.

What if it's the there
and not the here
that I long for?
The wander
and not the wait,
the magic
in the lost feet
stumbling down
the faraway street
and the way the moon
never hangs
quite the same.

The morning coffee
reminds me of your waking
I stir to find you

I am leaking letters and dripping verbs and bathing myself in the actions they long to take.

Oh what we could be
if we stopped
carrying the remains
of who we were.

I would love to say
that you
make me
weak in the knees
but
to be quite upfront
and completely
truthful
you
make my body
forget
it has knees
at all.

Run. For your life, for your joy, for your calm and peace of mind. Run. Because your legs are strong and your lungs are aching for the taste of air. Run. Because what's the point of a life spent walking in the middle?

for us THERE is only one wish to be adventurous pioneers and find ourselves at the end.

Don't ever tell me I'm broken if you will not be the glue, and please don't point out the fractures if that's all you're allowed to do.

We carry in us all we could ever possibly need.

Are they beautiful?
The lines left from suffering,
Scars of emptiness.

I love you,
in ways
you've never been
loved,
for reasons you've never been
told,
for longer than you think you
deserved
and with more
than you will ever know existed
inside
me.

Brighter, now brighter, pay no mind to those who squint, burn with all your heat.

It is hard to not feel broken when it is always quiet enough to hear your pieces rattle.

Have you returned for me? Is this the last flash before starting anew? Will it hurt? Will it matter if it does? Was I kind enough? Did I love with more than fit inside me?

Do you think it possible that some people are born to give more love than they will ever get back in return?

I find you in storms,
I feel you in the lightning,
I miss you in rain.

I love the moments that absolutely dwarf you. That show you where you fit and how small you are. That remind you that we are all specks of dust caught up in a tornado and we never even know we are spinning.

Please don't break this heart, it's endured so very much, it survived the fall.

Thank You"
she whispered soft
like it may
blow away
with anything stronger
than a breathe,
"for fixing me."
"You,"
I sputtered out
like the first sound
of morning,
"were never
broken.

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We too can rise up,
We too can float like lanterns
To a better place.

This is an ode to all of those that have never asked for one.
A thank you in words to all of those that do not do
what they do so well for the thanking.
This is to the mothers.
This is to the ones who match our first scream
with their loudest scream; who harmonize in our shared pain
and joy and terrified wonder when life begins.
This is to the mothers.
To the ones who stay up late and wake up early and always know
the distance between their soft humming song and our tired ears.
To the lips that find their way to our foreheads and know,
somehow always know, if too much heat is living in our skin.
To the hands that spread the jam on the bread and the mesmerizing
patient removal of the crust we just cannot stomach.
This is to the mothers.
To the ones who shout the loudest and fight the hardest and sacrifice
the most to keep the smiles glued to our faces and the magic
spinning through our days. To the pride they have for us
that cannot fit inside after all they have endured.
To the leaking of it out their eyes and onto the backs of their
hands, to the trails of makeup left behind as they smile
through those tears and somehow always manage a laugh.
This is to the patience and perseverance and unyielding promise
that at any moment they would give up their lives to protect ours.
This is to the mothers.
To the single mom's working four jobs to put the cheese i

Oh what we see when we finally stop looking.

I care not about lost firsts, but I will fight, knuckles bloody and teeth sharpened, for your lasts.

It is only when we decide that 'ordinary' is an insult, that we become the exquisite miracles we were born to be.

I am filled with wonderings, questions and doubt,
but of one thing I am certain: it will always be you
that gives flight to the butterflies inside me;
calm to the sea I have become
and hope to the darkness all around us.
It is you and it has always been you...
you.

You were the thing
worth photographing,
the stillness
that begged
for a matte finish
and far off stare.

I am made from the creaking beams and rusted nails of a lonely vessel on a lonely sea.
I am covered and coated, dusted with old salt water and the frail residue of moonlight.

And you loved me like I was, and had always been, the answer and the question did not, and would never, matter.

I promise you
I will try harder
to be better.
I
have battled with things
inside me
for longer than you know;
I do not know
what they are
or why they are there,
I only know
that they feel
manageable,
defeatable,
when I
am around
You.

please forgive my hands when they can't stop finding you. please forgive my lips.

When we
are we
and a closet
we share,
I
will hang my clothes
in the opposite direction
as yours,
because after a wait
like this,
I think even they
deserve to always
be walking
directly towards
each other.

I promise to plant kisses like seeds on you body, so in time you can grow to love yourself as I love you.

I overheard the man
whisper
"I am a lover
not a fighter,"
and to myself
I thought
I,
am in fact,
both.
For is it love
at all
if it's not worth
fighting
for?

Adventure lives a whisper beyond our comfort zones, just half a breathe after No turns into Yes.

...you agree with the parentheses of your smile.

I will never, ever believe in the words "too late" because it is never too late to be exactly who you wish, do exactly what you should, say exactly what needs to be heard, and live the exact life you should be living.

I believe
in love at first sight
but I will always believe
that the people
we love
we have loved before.
Many, many, many times before
and when we stumble
through grace and circumstance
and that brilliant illusion of choice
to finally meet them again,
we feel it faster
each time through.
The one glance
that set life alight
is two sets of two eyes
staring through the layers
of lifetimes and stolen glances
and first kisses and hands held;
the brace against the weight
and unrelenting tide
of waiting.
I believe
in love at first sight
but am not burdened with the misconception
that it's a first sight
at all.

I would be lying if I said there were not times that I am an earthquake contained inside this skin