![S. S. Frondescence](/_next/image?url=https%3A%2F%2Ffirebasestorage.googleapis.com%3A443%2Fv0%2Fb%2Fprompt-6db57.appspot.com%2Fo%2Fusers%252FuUuBsqwY8TUMNgqTZ7BXLxVA79d2%252Fprofile_image_128x128.jpg%3Falt%3Dmedia%26token%3D8f5ecbac-d6be-4290-8304-c2d69b5375e6&w=256&q=75)
S. S. Frondescence
a diary of words written with the ink of memories on pages of hope
![S. S. Frondescence](/_next/image?url=https%3A%2F%2Ffirebasestorage.googleapis.com%3A443%2Fv0%2Fb%2Fprompt-6db57.appspot.com%2Fo%2Fusers%252FuUuBsqwY8TUMNgqTZ7BXLxVA79d2%252Fprofile_image_128x128.jpg%3Falt%3Dmedia%26token%3D8f5ecbac-d6be-4290-8304-c2d69b5375e6&w=256&q=75)
S. S. Frondescence
a diary of words written with the ink of memories on pages of hope
a diary of words written with the ink of memories on pages of hope
a diary of words written with the ink of memories on pages of hope
She gave everyone she knew a star in the sky
so anytime she looked up she could be greeted with the comfort of familiarity
To be reminded of the love both given and received
The stars were what she liked most about the sky, after all
She became so familiar with looking up that she created maps in her mind
Each landmark representing someone she held dear
and the journey they shared
The stars were...
My tears stained already soaked clothes.
For I thought the leaking clouds that covered the sky—the very sky that was sunny just moments ago,
had ruined what I once deemed so perfect
A warm shiver ran down my spine
as I felt your strong arms pull me in
in to a soggy embrace.
I heard a whisper in my ear,
“Tag”
Then watched as you ran away.
Smiling.
Laughing.
Drops of rain running down your face.
T...
It starts with acquaintance.
It grows to learning.
It quickly turns to words that ignore patience.
Spoken from the head.
Spoken from the heart.
Obsession is next.
With wanted or unwanted thoughts always lingering.
Thoughts that feed a burning flame.
Thoughts that eventually turn to passion.
An intense passion.
These thoughts can drive one mad.
Now tell me…
Was it hatred?
Or was it love?...
do you think the sun gets lonely up there?
does she watch from the heavens and wonder…
who provides the warmth,
or soft evening rays?
do you think she wonders who paints the skies?
or who tells the birds when to sleep,
and when to rise?
does she sit up there in the dark,
looking down from above
at all the happenings of our world,
never knowing that it’s her,
who brings us warmth and light?
who dri...