I Know It’s Time To Leave.

That's just how life is.

Most Days.

Art was always supposed to be something to cherish.

The Poets.

I am beginning to understand what this is all about.

#NaPoWriMo Day 24: Portrait Of Blood And Tears.

The river of inspiration runs dry.

The Ever-Elusive.

Out of reach, but just barely.

Praises.

An illusion is all it was...

Daydream Mine.

Perhaps this is what it means to lose oneself...

Cry Into The Ocean.

Letters in bottles drifting with the tides.

A Little TLC.

We just have to put a little bit of work into healing ourselves.

On Different Paths.

And it's finally the last post for this incredibly mad year.

A Dream Too Long.

Looking for a door, for a way out

The Same, Old Songs.

In distant memories and forgotten dreams...

A Peek into a Writer’s Journal.

Inner peace is so hard to find when you're actively looking for it.

It’s Time.

Something spooky for the Fall.

New Moon.

We grow in phases or we fall apart.

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