I write dozens of letters on parchment of patience and bind them together with coils of confession, making tiny bolts of heartstring fabric.
I pack them in bamboo boxes filled with pretty paper cranes. Each package sealed with the wax of weal, and labeled in my spidery handwriting, "Fragile"
I mail them to an address that doesn't exist.
I wait for a response that may never come.
Hundreds of letters, all filed into a trash bin labeled "Unable to deliver-- do not return to sender".
Lost to silent emptiness forever.
I'll never know the difference.
10:45 p.m. - 2015-04-21
Recent entries:
Tossi Propter - 2018-07-02
Summerscorch - 2018-07-02
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Elliptical - 2018-06-25
Back and Callback - 2018-06-18
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