My gift with words is a blessing yet a curse. Soothing wounds for some or mentally making someone go absurd.
My words have healed but they have burned. In the end they all have meaning whether they ...
There is something romantic about Autumn. The way some leaves change colour to die in their best, extinguishing in shocking fits of orange and fires of red. I have always loved the fall. Any fall. Fal...
My gift with words is a blessing yet a curse. Soothing wounds for some or mentally making someone go absurd.
My words have healed but they have burned. In the end they all have meaning whether they ...
There is something romantic about Autumn. The way some leaves change colour to die in their best, extinguishing in shocking fits of orange and fires of red. I have always loved the fall. Any fall. Fal...