Midnight hope congeals into heartsickness at noon. Folded paper affections turned unfortunate accusations. Bittersweet cherry blossom epiphanies late in the week. I pick up old metal tines forged from integrity. A return to stirring evening ashes. Realization punches through the drowsiness of quiet months. It's all a jumbled mess, put here to break our hearts.

11:36 a.m. - 2017-07-27