Dear morning,
It makes sense that every day would start this way.
The clarity and peace brought to anxiety.
The wind is blowing a calm breeze through the cracked door.
George is chewing a filthy toy, while I drink pumpkin-vanilla coffee.
The soft buzz of football is in the other room.
I'm wrapped in a warm, cozy sweater.
Everything is still, and perfect.
You're perfect.
1 comment:
This sounds perfect! :)
So well written I felt like I was there!
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