Fleeting masterpieces are born in moments of desperation, and abandoned in haste Sometimes it's hard to know which way is forward, but you can always tell which direction you've been in
My life is a canvas of half-finished masterpieces and abandoned dreams Sometimes I find myself lost in the dust bunnies under my bed, contemplating the meaning of 'finished'
freshly baked bread crumbs scatter the morning floor like tiny, golden confetti My day is full of promise, but I'm not sure if it'll be a cake to remember or a stale disappointment