There are things we don’t talk about, and they weigh heavily on our souls.

You were, until now and the days yet to be, the best thing and worst thing that happened to me.

What do I know about the world, a lowly human, and why should it matter?

Never had fall been more beautiful, a symphony of warm colors, like a nature’s embrace, and it made her feel loved by a love higher than this world.

I’m streaming a river of feelings and naught, a river that weaves through my thought.