Emily C

My writing Is time, sometimes forgetful, sometimes scary having the ability to make or break you, sometimes fragile sometimes fierce, always reflective, sometimes regretted, sometimes a promise or a wish, a priceless memory, a bitter sweet symphony, cherished in this life and the next, sometimes love or hate but either way it all ends great, sometimes unexpected or predictable , a moment of faith laid down on the line, always giving or taking away, sometimes wild and free and always unstoppable at best, something so simple but yet so hard to grasp, perhaps misplaces but never lost, someone’s dream or hope someone’s every laugh or tear, someone’s faith or despair, sometimes a circular ending, like a lullaby or a prayer, who’s cheating who out of life’s prosperity, an unimaginable land where flying never ends, sometimes rash and harsh at times, love just cant be defined, sometimes seen as a piece of the whole pie but never fully seen with the naked eye, a puzzle of wonders just waiting to be fitted, and when its your turn you must be acquitted, My writing Is time.