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a girl who loved quietly and without expectation. But the girl before me had her dreams dashed, and she loved submissively, putting everyone else before herself until she found herself buried and gone.
Home is not a place, Not a smell, Not a face, But a space In your heart.
To live Is to feel So you know You are real.
The truth lies Still and quiet, Waiting for the moment It finds its voice.
Life is fluid — sometimes with cresting, white-capped waves, other times with an eerie stillness, a quiet surface.
Inch by inch, Second by second, Pulling yourself from the wreckage, Leaving it behind you To survive.
In life (Unlike death) There are few constants: The sun will rise; Your lungs will breathe; Your heart will love.
