At 27, I’m finally learning… it’s never been about right or wrong.
There was just so much more …
Hearts bleed on to paper to echo memories. Like holograms they dance on the pages of my mind. Yet it seems a purposeful wind wists them away as ghosts again. I hope you’re doing well.
When whispers stay and sit on your ear. What does that mean? Are they different voices from every place you’ve been and from throughout time, or, if you listen very closely, is it the same voice? Unmoving. Is it your voice?
Been sipping on dreams and walking on broken glass
Been building wooden houses in my head just to burn them
Jumping from planet to planet in my own solar system
I didn’t realize I was laying stones all across the river to get across when the option to swim was always there. For a moment I ask myself “swim to where though? Do we ever really know?” But then I sense it doesn’t matter does it? Not as long as I go. I must go.
If you could pick just one favorite thing, what would it be?