Strange relationship we have here. I write these words. Just lay it all out. Like carving a tree. Trying to cut the letters clear. Scraping my soul into the bark. Now you’ll see it and you’ll know. But I don’t get to see you read the words. I don’t get to know what you think and if you heard me at all.
I want to think …
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Badreads to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.