The winding road ahead makes my stomach churn. The past grabs at my ankles and the present slips away every few seconds. Sometimes apple pie slows me down and sometimes it’s him. But in between the ahead and behind is the place I strive to be.
The winding road ahead makes my stomach churn. The past grabs at my ankles and the present slips away every few seconds. Sometimes apple pie slows me down and sometimes it’s him. But in between the ahead and behind is the place I strive to be.
