Castleages Stories

eyes, dark eyes, they were so familiar yet I couldn't seem to remember who's they were. so dark and brooding, all I knew was that I loved those eyes, and i loved the person they belonged to. sometimes the past is unforgiving. it is cruel as it is real. but sometimes the past must be taken into account, known, then realised, we cannot hold onto what is passed. not without destroying what we have here, now. in this moment. ~Violet A Shotter