I don’t want you anymore. I don’t want to be sorry.
You come to a stop at a fork in the road. You were told about it. You knew it was coming. And you know which way you want to go.
"I'm trying to understand" | An analysis of an unfinished blog post from years ago that began with 4 simple words.
You can't change who you are. You can only change where you're standing.
A short poem about the choices we make in reaching our futures.
The one thing I’ve discovered is this: All of my main characters are the same.
I wonder about the simple life of a tree which cannot speak, cannot think, cannot hear, cannot feel.