Some things are created to be together.

I think of how perhaps the best way to fly would be with hands full of earth, so you always remember where you came from.

It is strange how we hold on to the pieces of the past while we wait for our futures.

Red is the first color of spring. It's the real color of rebirth. Of beginning.

This is a difficult balance, telling the truth: how much to share, how much to keep, which truths will wound but not ruin, which will cut too deep to heal.

And it is strange that absence can feel like presence.

Being a teen is past for me. Worrying about the world and my place in it is not.