ThisIsMyLetterToTheWorld

The asters are out again, just in time for my birthday. 

And each year on this day, I look back and wonder how a person can change so much, and how, without thinking, I suddenly am who I am. 

She sat on the steps, enjoying the brisk autumn air. It was the day before Halloween and the smell of cinnamon hung in the air. She knew she’d have to go in soon, but for now life was perfect.

Hand in hand we walked down the path, littered with colorful leaves. A gust of wind swirled the leaves around us. Encompassing us in our own little world. I looked up, the trees bent over us with shades of red, orange and yellow.

"Our hands are light blue and gentle. Our eyes hold terrible confessions." 

-Anne Sexton 

How naive to think glass shattering is someone breaking in,