» Vessel. Voice. Visionary.

Because, its my time.


And sometimes the blanks will remain
There will be no answers, only broken pieces that stay broken as reminders of the pain that you still carry.
Look deep into yourself and you’ll see what you hold, that which won’t be folded and tucked away, that which there won’t be a day where it disappeared.
And sometimes you’ll realize that that’s okay.
That everything doesn’t get to have a happy ending or an ending at all
And there’ll still be many nights where you’ll bawl thinking of that call that you cannot make, the future you thought of with that mate, of the questions you’d ask if you could ask fate.
Sometimes there will be no dustpan.
Sometimes you’ll just make a pile and sweep it to the corner
Choosing the days that you’ll mourn or smile
Because sometimes it stays with you.
And you’ll find that missing doesn’t always mean empty
And desire doesn’t always mean meant to be
And sometimes broken really means free.