

SummitI am atop a tower and I stand very still The winds blows ferociously andSummit
I rock unsteadily till The sun comes out and melts the clouds And frightens the winds away. Atop the tower, shining, I'm a cloud of joy.


Once I Was SailingSitting on that shelf, I stared over the cliff and into the big sea. From a distance, I watched that sinking ship disappear like a meteor into the ground. The sea opened its gaping jaws and with one blink, the great chasm closed again. Even with this tragedy, the horizon was as soft and serene as ever. A single tear ran down my cheek as the crackling static took over the screen. The beauty was gone.Once I Was Sailing


Everything Is BeautifulIt is the way the breeze weaves through my hair. The way your hand intertwines with mine. The way the sun caresses our faces. The way the grasses dance all around. It is that the only thing we hear is nature's silence. It is that everything is beautiful.Everything Is Beautiful
It is the way we are alone now.
It is how we've suddenly been laid out to dry and we've been sitting here, baking for years. Before, we were solid and strong and beautiful and vibrant and now, now we are parched and cracked and washed out and brittle. It is how we were once happy and proud to be each other's.
The moment the storm came to sweep us apart,


Seven Second SaviorYou're so efficient, the way you rush through me. Seven quick seconds and you've already taken over. With you, nothing matters but us. Every soreness and hurt ebbs away from my body as you enter. They belong to someone else. They are not my pain.Seven Second Savior
All else is a meaningless bubble. I am on a stage and fortunately, no one is watching. The warm lights behind me cast a yellow-orange glow on the dusty wood floor. I am always here but I don't dance often. No one is here to see who I am. I am exposed but only to you and the empty audience.
I take my first leap and instantly, I am bounding into the sky and flying. I feel like
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The history of a photographic memory is reached when you obliviate the present, and live back.
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The history of a photographic memory is reached when you obliviate the present, and live back.
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The history of a photographic memory is reached when you obliviate the present, and live back.
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The history of a photographic memory is reached when you obliviate the present, and live back.
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