Once you want something, everything changes. Now I want everything. More and more and more.
Some things are created to be together.
Does loving someone mean you want them to be safe? Or that you want them to be able to choose?
We can either try to change everything or just make the most of whatever time we have.
It is strange how we hold on to the pieces of the past while we wait for our futures.
I'm just a butterfly, a mourning cloak, sealed inside a cocoon with blnd eyes and stiky wings. And suddenly I wonder if the cocoons sometimes do not open, if the butterfly inside is ever simply not strong enough to break through.