Crimson twirls— cackles of auburn pierce the night. Sunset faded hours ago, its warmth still burns— Hopeless Scared Alone. These thoughts turn to ash as I stare into the flame— watching fragmented star light float to the night sky, waiting for tomorrow’s answer to today’s feelings.
While eating my scone, I had the honor of speaking to a humorous soul. He was wondering why I wrote. I told him, “honestly, I don’t know.” His fake smile was genuine. Eventually, making me smile again. “Kid, you’re older than I am!” This was coming from an old man. “Live and laugh. Lie and…
When I’m at my worse or at rock-bottom, there’s no choice but to look up and reach the achievable.
Her morning routine Outrunning the memories Fear and stress left her
How can flowers make crying so beautiful? They don’t know sadness nor do they utter a word. Even as the rain falls, they stand so tall— radiating a strength so small.
Even feathers can fall gracefully