The wind is blowing Through my lungs, Casting my hair into my eyes. I breathe in the changing winds; Breathing in the changing times.
Imagine this with me. Sixteen years of age, long brown hair, big brown eyes. Innocence stolen. Her eyes reveal pain. They reveal helplessness. She wants to give up. She’s seated on the front stoop of a beautiful old farmhouse surrounded by the Amish heartland in all directions. Mason jar in hand, eyes glazed, she watchesContinue reading “Breaking The Jars: Intention behind my blog.”