when a heart broken lover pours out all her feelings and translates them onto words. something beautiful gets created. appreciated by many but never the one she's always written her heart out for.
trees are changing their robes; on misty mornings I am sitting on my porch. a book I've found in a vintage bookstore at the corner of my street is lying in my lap
drinking a tea wrapped into my favorite blanket and watching my neighbors carving their pumpkins
smelling the scent of firewood while also listening to Frank Sinatra