Long night moon

Words go further. If I wrote a book, how would the story end? If I sung about emotions, would everybody listen? I watched the moon as the night walked on but you were busy, so I laid on the tall grass. I got up and ran as fast as I could, and you cheered for me. I swung during the jousting match, aiming my lance as I charged through. In the middle of the duel, I was struck down, and he told me to get up, and so i dusted myself and my horse was waiting for me there. I felt like the breeze, blowing the tall trees that made me feel small. The crowd stood for me. Is this how it feels to be who i am?

I doodled myself and one of my characters

 

highland cow girl

 

heart-borne