Writer. Pheoniexs . Award winning Overthinker.

I have to become a gentler, kinder god. I have become my mother’s religion.

I have buried myself beyond where words can reach. Find me with touches, grief and longing

Time. The first time I saw her she asked for the time. I have never really paid attention to something so feeble and controlling such as time until she asked me for it. I found myself looking at my watch, the irony and courtesy of wearing one when you don’t believe in its concept. It was dawn, she was looking at me with doe eyes, she marked my heart and trapped me in that time. The beauty of 6.42. I found myself looking up everyday at 6.42, the needless urge for that number to come sooner after dusk.

I am the harsh wind uprooting roses. I am the gentle breeze flirting with a lover’s tendril. I am heavier than father’s silence, and softer than mother’s kindness

hold a hand

What will be has been before, you will always find your way, love yourself and see past the heartaches of life