Brown (selena74)

It’s wild how memory works. Some random detail sticks forever, big things fade.

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It feels like I’m always in between who I was and who I want to be.

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The softness of flight in a single feather.

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Among tangled vines, spiderwebs shimmered like forgotten notes Each thread held a story of patience We passed through carefully, grateful

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Sometimes I don’t want answers. Just someone to say, ‘yeah, that’s hard,’ and mean it.

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The canopy shimmered with wet light after rain, each leaf catching its own sunbeam, and water dropped in rhythms known only to the woods.

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I didn’t know what I was looking for until the forest offered it: a space where silence wasn’t awkward, and stillness felt like home instead of stagnation.

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