I've been extremely absent as of late. Haven't felt like writing. And I believe this is why. Sometimes the story doesn't come out clean, neat or pretty. Sometimes it doesn't flow, it's choppy and messy. But it's words that my soul wants to speak, so I will speak them. "but when I open my mouth, all the hurt comes out. Every tear I wanna cry is satisfied." - @xtina
Words thrown, as careless as a lit match from a window.
Flames ripping through the trees of her soul.
Scourching the earth of her love.
Permanently changing the landscape of her being.
But once the smoke cleared, you didn't understand why all was lost
And she would start anew,