mikailah autumn : 20 years old. INFJ.
a hopeless wanderer, i dream of far off places, yet my heart is tied up in the worn threads and rubbed carpet of the house i grew up in. cloudy days and walls of fog swallowing an ocean town and respirations hovering before pale, chapped lips are a part of my soul. my hands are often wrapped around mugs of steaming mint tea, or found wandering across the ivory keys of the piano or perhaps, plucking the strings of a guitar. i am found in the pages of musty books, amidst the sound of the wild wind in the trees, nestled in the sweet, sad scent of the last flower-gifts of summer. writing is cathartic, and i bleed black ink onto the papers that litter my desk.