A letter I can't send (until it is a nicer thing to say aloud):
I am back to feeling how I did when I was a teenager and your voice made me cringe because I wanted it to stop being louder than everyone else's. Your pain presses through your mouth and slaps us through incessant, frigid waves. And eventually every ear is frozen to the sounds you make. Then it is too late. Then you finally realize you are alone and want nothing but to hear another person's voice again. When will you stop counting on the thaw to save you? When will you remember to heal before you forget your bruises?
My New Year's resolution in 2011 is to finally be a real writer. This is one of the tools I will use to accomplish this goal. Mostly, it is a place that will serve to remind me that this is what I love to do... even when I just want it to be done.
April 27, 2011
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