This page is blank. no words. no ink. no melody
the page holds so much life. yet it's nothing. nothing to nobody. a nameless, faceless page. she who has dreams bigger than herself, of living freely and working passionately on what is cared for and loved. these words let out what she struggles to say
and yet she criticizes others for a mundane life even though that is all that's desired, to live seemingly easy with security instead of vulnerability and an unknown
but this calling isn't one to be taken lightly. the rushing in her blood and adrenaline fueling her persistence is but a side effect to this wonder
though maybe it's not a calling anymore. maybe it's refusing to let go of the dreams that she's collected and pinned inside her head
Everything that leaves or fades away takes a part of me with it. every time someone else is gone i break easier and harder, and it takes me longer if ever to recover.
YOU ARE READING
You
Poetry"You"- meaning the you personally and You aside from me. This book talks about the You individually and going through times when you are your own light but, also when all you see and when all you feel is darkness. The You I dream about and need and...
