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Writing Prompt: I remember seeing her once, as she was clad in casual apparel with heels too tall to walk in and eyes too deep to see through. We never spoke, but I made one assumption about her life: She breathed poetry and collected secrets.

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You know what I don't understand How can it be When I have loved you How can you not love me I do not have a foolish dream I hardly if ever hope For things to be anything than what they are and as they seem I do not feel stupid I just don't understand…

"It's just me and my lonely mind, everyone's storm is different, but this forecast is only mine."

"It's just me and my lonely mind, everyone's storm is different, but this forecast is only mine."

Then climb up in a tree http://www.amazon.com/The-Reverse-Commute-ebook/dp/B009V544VQ/ref=tmm_kin_title_0

Then climb up in a tree http://www.amazon.com/The-Reverse-Commute-ebook/dp/B009V544VQ/ref=tmm_kin_title_0

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