I’ve walked here, sometimes stumbling and sometimes blind, I’ve felt erosion in my heart and on my fingertips. The coldest stones worn smooth with time, forgiveness unwavering. This self portrait of words, of pages I’ve yet to write.
I’ve walked here, sometimes stumbling and sometimes blind, I’ve felt erosion in my heart and on my fingertips. The coldest stones worn smooth with time, forgiveness unwavering. This self portrait of words, of pages I’ve yet to write.
Scribblings of Curiosity 