She's fire...but she will not burn you. She knows all too well how it feels to live with ashes.

Our spirits are connected honey. Wrapped in firsts of gnarled heartache. But I promise not to let go if you don't.

I don't want comfortable. My heart is not a recliner.

They beg you for transparency. Yet when you give them a peek behind the curtain shrouding your hear, they run in sheer fright.

Her mind is a mess, and she has no intention of cleaning today.

I have waltzed with wolves and howled at the moon. But my heart will always remember the slow-dance that ended much too soon.