sounds like sunday

time doesn't always heal: it just breathes and swallows memories like the seasons change - sending showers; beating flowers into the mud. and nothing is forever in this place. nothing but the way my heart fits in your hands; the held breath of hope; and the sweet lingering taste of grace.




i want exams to be over

i want to go the beach with my friends

and have a barbeque

and build bottle rockets

and see the avengers

and go shopping for summer dresses

and meet up with old friends


4 notes   -  4 May, 2012