It is sometimes no wonder whatsoever that my breath is bated and my words spared
Where there is depth, there shall be naught, and where we wade in the shallows - there will be peace.
And who says you must wait until time's nearly up to learn how to scream//to learn how to breathe//or to learn how to notice the air around your lungs
I want to have the book fully written (not edited, just written) by the end of November, at the very latest. The title of the book is 2203.
This is a street I could fall in love on, where everyone's eyes reflect the stringed lights. Cobbles hold the weight of it all - the hearts and the hopes of what could and might.