I am undoubtfully dependent on the idea of sharing every bit and every breath of my world with someone else.
I am also miserably specific about the people I will share my world with.
And when you’re picky, you can’t complain that you’re alone. Cause you’ve been pulling weeds, and
some people think wildflowers are weeds because nobody planted them there…
A letter of love composed on a train
Cream Soda
Tears
Clouds
A victory garden
I know a boy that doesn’t know his brain, and his heart’s always getting lost in the mix. I don’t know the boy’s brain, but I know his heart and it wonders about the soul it is so separated from. And I wonder where we’d be if that boy knew his brain, and his heart had never wandered away.
Argue.
Resolve; kissing the intangible skies.
Dissension composed of mutual disagreement and
all kinds of love and agreement.
We are happy with our state of discontent, because really
being happy with a state of content gets pretty boring.
Let’s go;
Fly a kite.
