Kristine Brown

Finding The Colors Of Life

your wish does not command but commands are something you wish you had to live that life, in lively color

At the time, this relationship held me together, albeit in maladaptive ways. He was like craft glue holding a flimsy bookshelf.

There’s the sound of clashing metal, the milk canisters.
They sing this song that doesn’t go stale

You tend to be overly critical

“You are your own person. Not a stereotype, a stock character, nor a misinformed expectation.”