A picture will hold such as you are in that physical, definable sense. What if beauty were more? What if, of the thousands of words that a picture can speak, what if the words that they didn’t describe were the words I needed to read, or even needed to hear from your voice? If a picture tells a thousand words, well, a picture of my heart would speak a single sentence at least a thousand times, all of this beating at the rhythm of a heart. The words of a heart don’t need to be spoken. Allow me to say that even the sentence itself falls short of its own being. Emotion falls short of itself. One minute we find ourselves absolutely passionate and with the next we are full of apathy for anything outside of ourselves. I wonder how our heart still beats. I’ve memorized the right answers for anyone who would bother asking. Strange, it’s such any easy thing to forget. I don’t quite understand it and I find myself loving a thousand different trivial objects and concepts. They will make a clear picture of my selfishness. These words are far beyond me. Regardless of what I am meant for, there will always be what I have to choose. There will always be our choices, I have not forgotten that I am not one. I will keep a thousand words all told to stand still in a photograph. Know that the words I long most to read are the words carved into my heart. Know that these words will exist as long as I do. They will die with me as well.

It is never too late to be what you might have been. Ohh..