I push and pull and still my thoughts get tangled. I’m tired of feeling sad for strangers and falling in love with characters from books I read. My thoughts dig through the mud and I wish they’d grow into a compass rose. I’d let them lead me back to safety and relish in the bloom. I don’t think it’s that easy- it never will be. I’ll keep smiling at strangers and weep when the flowers begin to bow down to winter and leave me. -AMT