One little indian

Don't give up

The harder you try, the bigger the fall

Oh! My Delilah... if only you had truly loved me.

Every spring, graduation season stirs something ancient in me—ghosts of choices, absences, and half-formed goodbyes.

how many roads must a man walk down?

Capturing the volatility of love one bar at a time.

I'll miss you until we meet again.

I walked to talk, and talked to feel—God met me in both.

We must run with horses