Sometimes, it feels like the weight of the world is just the weight of a thought. A whisper—"remember to breathe."
The sky was Blue, like that day in March, when everything seems possible. A kind of promise in the plunge of reality.
Tomorrow might rain. Or maybe it's Wednesday. A quick coffee, a sharp breath, then back to the grind.
Sometimes, it feels like the weight of the world is just the weight of a thought. A whisper—"remember to breathe."