Never quite together, but the best of friends. Perhaps it doesn't matter anymore. But I feel like I need to mend this fling that lives on as folklore.
Infatuated by a smile and some attention, but it wasn't what I wanted. People imagined some surface tension, yet I left completely undaunted.
The beauty of a fleeting bud is the hope of something better. My heart didn't crash with a thud, so don't pin on me a scarlet letter.
I'm just as free as a bird. To tie me down would be absurd.
the sound of my dad’s guitar playing his favorite chords the typing of my mom’s fingers going through family records the smell of the ceramics studio full of the kiln, dust and glaze the running home
it’s the little things they always say like how you listen more than you ever have before or how you stopped opening my car door like how you squeeze me tighter in our hugs or how you don’t answer me
I cant remember the last photo i took maybe it was a mountain maybe my niece maybe myself maybe you looking away no matter what it was it’s the last thing my lense has seen which means it means everyt