When you find family outside of your bloodline, your heart sends extensions and messages to new places within yourself that are complicated designs of nature.
When things are complicated, they tend to be h a r d to describe.
I’m having difficulty writing this.
To describe love devotes itself to more than just words.
It’s a feeling that floats in the air, forming a cocoon that suffocates you in a comforting way.
It comes with many aspects.
There is the contagious laughter that struggles to remain contained.
The helping hands that are in hoards.
Not to mention the deep depths of a connection that speaks directly to the heart.
The moments I’ve experienced will live in me forever, occupying a place of vivid vitality.
I’m inclined to call it a dream, but to do this would mean the people are cloaked and obscured by haze.
I simply cannot deny the severe imprint they’ve left on me.
I want the clock to keep t i c k i n g.
There is dread looming.
When it arrives, the floOds will flow in everlasting droves.
I don’t want to leave the cocoon. Not yet. Not ever. It’s impossible.
I’ll have to rip myself free of their pull with a force so strong that it will damage me temporarily.
But I’ll be back.
As for now…
Time is a tohunga.
It must be treated as such.