When is a cell finally too small to hold our essence?
A single gentle rain makes the grass many shades greener. So our prospects brighten . . .
Multiple closets for different needs. Overkill.
My timing is off. But I had to get it out. Some things you have to tell, no matter how stupid they may sound. Some things you can't save for later. There might not be a later.
It's the unknown that I fear, the bites of memories that still have no connections.
Where we are going, I don't know. It doesn't seem to be the place that is important but the steps in between.