Fifteen

I am the one who takes long walks in the rain when rumbling thunder rolls in, walking through quaint puddles, dancing through the ones that seemed to eat up more and more of the sidewalk, as more and more rainfall soaks the already satisfied soil.

I’m grateful for:

If only I could reach a little further… I’d grasp the moon in my hands and give it to you. I’d let you hold it near, and dear to that adoring heart of yours.