jessicafrias

Growing up, September meant spring was coming. It meant bright blue skies, butterflies flying everywhere, birds chirping happily as if singing "Winter is over!", the sun finally making its way  through the clouds of winter. It also meant I was getting older, flourishing into the woman I would become. Blue always made me calm, gave me hope. Gazing up onto the sky and all its mysteries, its secrets, made me think everything would be okay, even when it seemed at times it wasn't, that, like the dark night skies still had its stars, I would be able to find light through the dark times, and in time morning would come. My spring with the bright blue