1. But now sunlight is a ghost, felt not seen. Warm and patchy and inconsistent. That’s all it is. That’s all it ever was.
100 Days of Sunlight
2. Letting go feels like giving up, but if you don’t let go, you’ll drown.
100 Days of Sunlight
3. The word trembles inside my chest, nervous, like a fledgling bird unsure of how to fly. I am the fledgling bird unsure of how to reply but the wind tastes wild and sweet up here in the trees. I want to know what will happen if I just let go. I want to know what will happen if I fly.
100 Days of Sunlight
