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And so I cried. Not because I was sad, but because everything was so perfect and it had to end.
Me, and the sun.
The sun pours directly into my soul and if the sea could fill my veins the ocean would course through me. I am a mixture of songs and sounds, of birds and burns, a mixture of all the things I want to do, and all the things I should be doing. I am honey, water, vanilla and sometimes pure salt, but I love so hard and so does my soul. I am freckles and freedom and I need a warm hug even on the warmest of days. I am never bored, always on the run and sometimes too scared, but mainly not scared enough. I both expect and accept too much, sometimes my heart hurts, but I am art and my life is a miracle. And so are you, and so is yours. Yours truly, Me, and the sun.
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