April 2, 2017
Her voice is such a sweet, low melody–rarely heard, but when it is, it lingers as a flutter in every heart and mind she meets.
She was never one to voice herself, only speaking through her portraits and obsessions, hugging her sketchbook closely as though it were her only means of communication.
She could melt your heart with the emotion she doesn’t express through words, but through the eagerness in her eyes, the delicate, upturned corners of her soft, coral lips.
She’ll stop your heart only to make it beat again, then make it beat harder than before. Seeing her once gave you some strange sense of fulfillment and you long await each passing moment until you see her again.