9 months and 13 days. And all I can even feel or think of right now is the heavy weight in the pit of my stomach. Nothing else.
At least once a day,
every single day
I am reduced
to wet tracks
on dry cheeks
by the overwhelming and
utterly surprising
majesty
of the life
that my
tiny life
orbits
so small
and silently
around.
-Tyler Knott Gregson-
“And in the middle of the night, I may watch you go
There’ll be no value in the strength of walls that I have grown
There’ll be no comfort in the shade of the shadows thrown
You may not trust the promises of the change I’ll show
But I’ll be yours if you’ll be mine
So love the one you hold
And I will be your goal
To have and to hold
A lover of the light”