Things move.
You're either in or you're out.
She rips her heart out of her chest.
I do not shy away.
We lay face to face
And kiss.

Do you ever realize that you're in control. That the world around you doesn't actually ever exist. This space. The time of the walls literally moving around you, yet you're sitting still. Completely present in the lives of those around you. Absolutely incomplete, and separate from their lives, but sharing the same moment with them. You arrive on the other end of the tunnel and nothing's changed. But you can decide to get off. And they probably won't even care.


The world turns.
She takes a deep breath.
She grabs his arm.
Never let go.

What you can control, you control well. what you can't control, you roll with as though you're dancing your way through a crowd with nothing but you and the music.
Floating along.
Mindless.
Secure.
Content on the unknown ahead, but fruitful in your decisions and your bounty. the space between control and complete chaos is simply full of interpretive dance.

A boy plants a seed, hoping for a rose. He understands that lots of sun, a gentle yet appropriate amount of water, and with some tender care, the seed will grow into a beautiful rose bush. Full of life. Full of love. The challenge that the boy is presented with however is a simple and easy way to make the bush grow into a single rose, miracle grow. Yet, every time, he will choose the sun as it kisses his face hello, and the roses bloom.