Each heart is made of a different stone - no two feel alike nor break the same way.

Sunday evenings are heavier than clouds with rain, darker too and often interminable.

You think so logically... like a hawk soaring - I feel so chaotically... like a kite without a tail plummeting to earth.

I have found, beauty is the illumination of the mind.

I'm shy in person - so afraid to confess my love - I need a go-between - our mutual friend, the Moon.

Each heart is made of a different stone - no two feel alike nor break the same way.

Here's what I've learned - people will hurt you, but you don't have to respond: Not every mean comment or cruel act deserves to be noticed.