its times like these, that come out of nowhere, where it feels as though my chest has been ripped open and exposed; even the slightest breeze is felt against my insides.
times like these i want to write it all down in a letter for you. that the thoughts that don't have words could somehow make their way onto paper so you could peer into my heart and explore it like a secret garden.
you would know what i know and see what i see and feel what i feel. as i breathe out you would breathe in.
.......... and the past comes rushing back in.
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