There is a sea of emotions swirling in my heart every time that I look up at the stars. The driftwood clashes on the shore, creating the calm before the storm.
I think to myself I will never make it out. When I’m old, I will wonder how these thoughts came about. I’m like a rusty wrench, useless and abused. Obsolete and tortured, falling down is my cue. Despite all of this, I find beauty in this world.
Amongst all of the pain in this life, there is always something good waiting on the other side. Keep your head held up high, dream of ways to say goodbye.
As sweet as ginger root, as precious as a sand dollar – the hot lava running though my veins begs of me to take my chances and holler. The days are long and strange, it’s true – but there is not a doubt in my mind that I will make due. The sea throws these stones together for me to make of use. For I believe there is a Promise Land for me and all of you.