She stood and gazed at the ocean with its crashing waves and rolling white caps.
What a beautiful scene.
What beautiful, thought provoking, inspiring place to be.
They seemed, to her, a metaphor for feeling.
Beautiful when gazed upon, and gently stirring in the shallows.
But dangerous and crushing in depth.
If you didn't get caught in the tumult, she supposed, and lived to make it out even father where depth became impossible to fathom, it might be beautiful again.
She surmised that underneath the torrent, if one could only hold their breath long enough, they might submerge to find the tranquility underneath the danger.
A space for me to empty my brain of all the poems, letters, and half-finished stories that swirl around in my head all day.
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The shadows in the corner smile at me, sick and twisted. I feel cold all over. The sense of some impending disaster fills me all at once. ...
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My mind twirls your name like a delicate flower petal. As if I think it to loudly it might disintegrate into nothing. I wonder if you k...
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I am trying. Trying not to talk about it. Trying not to bring it up in ever conversation. Trying not to think about it. Trying to m...
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