This is the bright-eyed youth.
i won’t understand my words,written today,ten years from now the differencebetween barely grown and maturedis the thought-process. and once my thoughtssort themselves out,i will look back on these wordsand either laugh or cry. or i won’t even remember them. i don’t know which one is worse.
written in journalsdocumented in photosmemories of us smiling – in love – or fiery rage consuminga thoughtful sadness a thousand words toldof stories now forgottenbonds you and i share tears shed together,ice cream behind our red lipsthe taste of summer to the hot cocoaand chocolate chip cookiesby a roaring fire memories now keptcollected and toContinue reading “memories”