kill your old stories slash and burn them to the ground… narrate something new.
kill your old stories slash and burn them to the ground… narrate something new.
grateful to have walked down this street with you before, our fingers entwined…
unfolding into our shared space– envisioning with fluidity…
your mesmerizing performance leaves me wishing the world was a stage.
what if instead of armoring up you allowed yourself to soften?
thanks for allowing the space between us to be constantly fluid.
snuggled up to sleep next to you or not– always I feel your presence.
there is this sense of empty as I watch them go… then I remember
i love every beautiful, perfectly im- perfect piece of you.
seeing you happy makes me happy– regardless of where you’re rooted.
the edges of myself 