Him and I.

We zig and zag.

We go up and down,

and every single which way.

But yet,

we are also two straight lines,

traveling along a parallel path.

Together.

For always.

Salt.

Tears taste like salt.

Life of a dancer

A week later, a bouquet of roses usually means "I love you" or "a job well done" but to a dancer, the drooping petals are just a reminder of a bad performance.

I could've always pointed my feet a little harder.

"Waiting in the wings"...

something no one will ever understand.

Laying under the soft warm lights of the stage when the room was empty and quiet...

... That became my place of peace. After those quite moments alone, my mind went blank.