They say love blossoms freely. I must live in the continuous season of fall.

Love is beyond the realm of skin, the fadings of time, the erosions of distance.

Love is being wrapped up inside of each other; until nothing else exists

Love is two, splashing into the statics of atmospheric electrics

I wasn't loved. I was just a dumping ground for her demons to rest in my heart to if it was their grave.

everything holds a reason to be thanked