3 Winters Ago.

3 winters ago All I can remember is being Anchored to my bed, unable to move Unable to do anything but lie there and stare up at the ceiling As if staring at it long enough would help me forget Everything I let myself drown in sadness Longing to be held, touched, loved To be…

Stories.

If you’re reading this If you’re still alive, still breathing Then there’s hope for you Your story is not finished It’s nowhere close to being done So, my dear, pick up your pen again, and keep writing For you have so much waiting ahead of you You have yet to experience And maybe there are…