I thought grandmothers had to like you. It’s a law or something.
There are many words and definitions I have never lost. But some I am only just beginning to truly understand.
Observing and understanding are two different things.
Maybe the impossible is possible when you take everything else away.
Some things aren't meant to be known. Only believed.
Pieces. Isn't that what all of life is anyway? Shards. Bits. Moments. Am I less because I have fewer, or do the few I have mean more?