This is how it works - you’re young until you’re not. You love until you’re dumb. You try until you can’t. You laugh until you cry. You cry until you laugh. And everyone must breathe, until their dying breath. Now, this is how it works - you peer inside yourself, you take the things you like, and try to love the things you took. And then you take that love you made and stick it into someone else’s heart, pump in someone else’s blood. And walking arm in arm, you hope it don’t get harmed. But even if it does, you’ll just do it all again.

I wanted a perfect ending. Now I’ve learned, the hard way, that some poems don’t rhyme, and some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what’s going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity.