Every drawl of my huskiness, and every flex is snapped into its rightful place, not as the demonstrable evidence of man, no. It is, the connectedness of my body to the soulish devices that have been there, all the while, and hadn’t had a palette.
Tag: journey
hope. alone.
hope. alone. is oftentimes, enough...
Point of Return
If you don't go bravely, you would remain naive, about your own reflection.
growing pain
age means nothing, warriors push against soil, and grow..all life long..