Polly's Treehouse

Frustration and hurt and anger, bitterness and fury.
How much can be expressed at once?
Trust is a gift, not a toy. It's fragile as porcelain, not flexible as rubber.
Liars and thieves have no place in this heart, nor in her surroundings.

Spring cleaning in December.

Return to the place where it doesn't hurt.
Hide away, forget the bad.
"I am a butterfly. Place me in the wind and I'll find a new home." Whispered words to the silence of her treehouse.

Worries.
Regrets.
Promises written that were never kept.
Forgive me.

The hat.
It still sets in waiting, a man who stopped in hours to see her and was met with extended silence. More feelings of regret pull from that, taking it up gingerly and resting it atop her own hair. Never a hat person. It feels odd.

"Life can be such a terrible waste of time when spent in the wrong place for far too long..."
 
Only a note left for a beautiful friend.

May your travels be bringing you peace, and your time away bring you healing.
 
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Ashamed of how long its been.
Ashamed of the rubble of a place once meant to be flourishing.
Strong and serendipitous.

I abandoned you horrendously.
Run, run, run away and never look back.

I stopped and turned and felt the wind guide my wings.

Hello again, my sweetest friend.

Let me in.
 
Ashamed of how long its been.
Ashamed of the rubble of a place once meant to be flourishing.
Strong and serendipitous.

I abandoned you horrendously.
Run, run, run away and never look back.

I stopped and turned and felt the wind guide my wings.

Hello again, my sweetest friend.

Let me in.

Welcome back Polly. :rose:
 
Welcome back Polly. :rose:

Thank you, Shark.
-Smiles-

I should remember to stop back into this once in awhile.

For now, off to translate half these tool options.
Finding out now why a Free Version was Free.

It's not in English.
 
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