Is it a sea he hears inside me, or echoes of himself? Lately, everywhere is mirrors. In him, in me, in the darkness of the room, the brightness of the day. Patterns of sound, the syncopation of change. Shifts in feeling, depth perception, things shattered and reconstructed.
Twist me like a kaleidoscope. No. Twist me like a kaleidoscope.
It isn't always easy to recognize God's grace.
"I don't know what happened with your father."
But she was young and in love once.
"You'll make the right decision. Whatever you decide, I'll stand behind you."
I guess he was young and in love once, too.
Through all their lies, everything I worry about never happens anyway.
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