by Bryce McKay Weyerman
#hate #love
The pen to paper you touch is icho… so divine. Create! The slightest pressure from you ha… Create!
As a cook I know food speaks. Every menu plan, every baking adve… Every meal I make isn’t just to b… The experience gained, every mista… When I cook for you I don’t just…
The smell of cinnamon. A melted heart and a smile. Warming hands; in hand. My I have this dance, in the kitc… A harmony of smells.
He is an interesting fellow to say… And say the least I shall, for I… He resembles a man, but is anythin… Pumping through his veins are the… He is a carnivore and you are his…
This house is full. I did my fare share, but it was fu… Full of undiscovered boxes, reject… I don’t think this house has ever… Full of desires and other aspirati…
Wondrously spacious, yet calm and… The evening sun setting in the bac… Luminous they bounce, swaying with… The hot air balloons like giant li… Freckling the night they twinkle l…
I think about my footprints and who will follow in them; and hope mine don’t just end as those did before me. But instead we come to walk side by side until they forge their own path an...
They are not the ones that got awa… Not in the sense that they are los… Have no sympathy for me. No. They have succeeded and escaped fr…
In her eyes she held a fortune tha… But in her hands she holds ten cen… In my hand I hold the world. In my hand I hold ten cents.
Smile! Really, I mean it. I haven’t seen you smile in a long… Those turned-up lips don’t count. Smile with your eyes.
Driving though the sunset, the passersby’s are fields of whea… Listening to music you won’t remem… Remember this. Remember the feeling as you reach…
Oh how I long for those peaceful… Where I don’t live to work. I live to love and love to work wi…
