My cries drift out of the window in soft bellows, seeping out into the restless night breeze with a warm hello. I hold my breath in hopes to soften the sigh’s sandpaper creases, as the spot behind my ear reminds me of my reasons.
For what is a dreamer without the darkness at night? Every rumored horror and every desperate fight. Who would we be without sadness and envy? Desperate calls to love’s meaning and its burning frenzy. Who is a dreamer that denies life’s magic? When it lives in them presently, but few actually have it.
Your mind is a gorgeous haunting of a lighthouse by the sea. A story of life’s horrors and deep wounds of waves tragedy. You stand firm in what often thrashes around you. You remain poised in your duty to be a beacon in the blackness, an unyielding fury to be better than all the madness.
I admire you.