. . . I had a receiver of my mind.
But modes shift and formats change and this blog can't house the mind in the same intimate way that our old-fashioned letters always did. I could still pen such notes, but now they would come back to me marked return to sender. And so I leave my paper blank and feel the agitation bubble within.
I can't make myself write what cannot be sent.
Did you know that a river of tears dehydrates the body and makes it quake?
You would want me to be happy, I know and appreciate that. But that's a lot harder than I thought it would be with you gone to a different sphere.
- Today's score is . . .
- I am the hollow of . . .
- I reach . . .
- . . .
- If God can move mountains, cause prison walls to c...
- I am in a place you have never been . . .
- O I try so hard to be hopeful . . .
- Eating chocolate at seven a.m. . . .
- The morning is still . . .
- I wrote about the purple wall . . .
- I write to fill the hole . . .
- Is there a stronger word than crucible . . .
- Who walking these halls is . . .
- There is power in the pronouns . . .
- I look and I can't find what I hope to see . . .
- I am all over the place . . .
- Today I ran to the store for a loaf of bread . . ....
- I'm not pretending . . .
- Safety glass keeps the whole together . . .
- I think . . .
- I am selfish in my words . . .
- I sit beneath the mountain . . .
- Once upon a time . . .
- Try as hard as I might . . .
- This afternoon I ponder my blessings and gifts . ....
- I don't know what to pray for . . .
- Lost . . .
- I sit here trying to feel . . .
- Epistle to nowhere . . .
- On your birthday . . .
- What if . . .
- I am the silent . . .
- Once . . .
- To those who are lost . . .
- She wondered . . .
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