Perhaps: such a small word, that holds so much of possibility within itself. Perhaps you will step out into one particular morning to find the world has unfolded itself as if just for you. The world will be there, waiting, with its petals open to the sun for you to take that morning for your own. A world created just for you to walk through.
Perhaps this life will twist and turn against you a whole sea of troubles turned tsunami, washing everything away that you cared about, flooding through your life in an instant, wrecking everything you have and have ever wanted.
Perhaps tomorrow will be just like today and all your yesterdays. Perhaps that is good; perhaps you live inside a world, a life that you don’t want to change in any way, except for maybe one or two little things… perhaps.
Perhaps your whole world is already a nightmare that scars your days and ravages your nights. It leaves you torn and bleeding on the floor of the morning, too ripped apart to even acknowledge it is another day, just longing for them all to be over.
Perhaps: such a small word, that holds so much of possibility within itself.
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