I wrote the letters fully intending to send them to their recipients and then I would be free. I was very pleased when I finished my writing, and tucked them in a pocket of my notebook. Since then, I haven’t even looked at the folded things. Maybe I fear that if I touch them they will sprout wings, and then they will be free.
Stupid letters.
I like writing poetry. Not all of it is going to be a historical epic or an ode to something. These are like little glimpses of the subway in my mind; my train of thought isn't always artsy or symbolic or deep or meaningful, but I like to think that art takes ordinary things and makes people see a sort of beauty in them. So, look around- I've been doing this for a while. Enjoy ♥
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