As 2017 is fast approaching its curtain call, I may recall some moments (basically in which I ranted and raved) which broke and made me whole again.
But her silent admiration is interrupted by the sound of bells.
Even in your phases, may you shine the brightest
Distant birthday songs blasted through the speakers as I trudged along to work, and I remember... It'll be three weeks to go before I turn a year older.
until the next winter comes
a lone note lie on a table