It wasn’t easy deciphering her.
Every book she had read.
Every song she had listened to.
Every stranger she had met.
Every landscape she had fallen in love with.
Every wound she couldn’t heal.
Every laughter she skipped her breaths for.
Every tear she couldn’t hide.
Every smile she strived to show.
Every wish she longed to happen.
Every ocean she had once sailed.
Every dream she had waken up from.
Every character she had related to.
Every artist she had understood.
Every painting she had framed.
Every place she had homed.
Every open-road she couldn’t take alone.
She’s not easy to decipher, because she’s a complexity of all the beautiful things that she packed along with her.