Reid@YWP

I wander through the woods. The day is cool and dry, with a wind blowing that smells of wood and fallen leaves. The bracken has begun to brown, though the Joe pye weed and goldenrod still stand strong.

Breathe. 
In. Out. 

A calm breath, 
a solid moment stuck 
in the middle of chaos.

Count to a number you call 
lucky. Every number is lucky to somebody. 

In a chaotic world 

of eight billion people, 

each hidden away 

in their own 

separate lives, 

be remembered for 

being the person 

who brings others joy, 

I want you to kiss me until my lips bruise and pucker and purple and all I can taste is the inside of your mouth.

A whisper in the wind... 

A yell in the thunder... 

But they will never tell my secrets... 

Cry in my pillow... 

Cry in the rain... 

But they will never mock my tears...