The winter wind is whipping through the trees
the sunlight hardly stands a chance against the white sky
it's all just dark lines
the craggy arms of the trees
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War
In the midst of the rubble we must pick up our chins win sideways or not at all find the beauty in the butterfly wing soar on the ocean with...
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Soaking up the rain and whipping spit of the waves, as he stood next to the ocean of my memory, a fire hydrant in a red windbreaker, glaring...
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"Well...that was dramatic." I didn't know what he meant until I saw the ink spilled everywhere and the moths in her hair like ...