We’re at the table in the back,
avoiding the rush that’s coming through.
But this is our favorite place.
This is where it all starts.
I still don’t believe I deserve the blessings I am given, all of you.
I can enjoy them in their entirety
but still fear that I will miss them.
Letters to my friends we shouldn’t read.
I’m sorry that sometimes
I don’t show up as me.
I have a million different faces,
and I got lost in the debris.
I’m so sorry to have stolen your heart,
kept you close to me
I’m not a monster but sometimes
from the outside I appear to be.
Letters to my friends, maybe letters left unread
I’m here, not dead.
I guess that’s better than
a lost girl in a familiar place.
I’m slowly catching up to your loving pace.
Letters to my friends,
I’d like to thank you,
seeing through me when I’d play pretend.




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