Tuesday

Steam.

I am full of words. Thoughts. Sentences. I am so full, that sometimes I feel like a boiling kettle, the steam is seeping out. Words are escaping and that this here, writing to you is my only way out. This could be prettier, I know there’s a pretty sentence in here. I’m just tired. It’s late, I’m broken and my words are jagged.

at

Dear..

 Dear Christopher,  I think I found it.  Maybe now, we can start living again.  Always,  - me

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