May 31, 1786
11:55 p.m.
Hello,
Dear Sir.
11:55 p.m.
Hello,
Dear Sir.
I wanted you to have my best penmanship. I wonder if you will ever read this. I wonder if it will get lost, forgotten, or overlooked.
I can’t help it. My heart is so big. I’m conflicted internally because I don’t want to feel this way. I’m making life hard for myself. I realize that.
I don’t know your life. I don’t have to. I won’t try if you don’t want me to. I don’t want to make things hard for you. When I reach out to you, it’s not a plea for attention. It’s a moment of truth. Life gets like this when you are an honest person. I am not a saint. But I am not a liar. It is not in me. I try, but my face tells the truth. My heart speaks straight through my body.
One day, I’ll stop dreaming of that fairytale moment with you. I’ll stop smiling about the sarcastic conversations. I’ll forget the witty comments. I’ll close my eyes to the admiration of your gifted thoughts. I’ll try to see the bad in you. I’ll grow to hate you for your white privilege. I’ll call you a sell out and say you don’t really care about the black community. I’ll label you as anti-Christ and pray that He have mercy on your soul. I’ll lie to make myself feel better. I’ll do whatever it takes to shake this feeling.
For now, I dream of you... This too shall pass..
I can’t help it. My heart is so big. I’m conflicted internally because I don’t want to feel this way. I’m making life hard for myself. I realize that.
I don’t know your life. I don’t have to. I won’t try if you don’t want me to. I don’t want to make things hard for you. When I reach out to you, it’s not a plea for attention. It’s a moment of truth. Life gets like this when you are an honest person. I am not a saint. But I am not a liar. It is not in me. I try, but my face tells the truth. My heart speaks straight through my body.
One day, I’ll stop dreaming of that fairytale moment with you. I’ll stop smiling about the sarcastic conversations. I’ll forget the witty comments. I’ll close my eyes to the admiration of your gifted thoughts. I’ll try to see the bad in you. I’ll grow to hate you for your white privilege. I’ll call you a sell out and say you don’t really care about the black community. I’ll label you as anti-Christ and pray that He have mercy on your soul. I’ll lie to make myself feel better. I’ll do whatever it takes to shake this feeling.
For now, I dream of you... This too shall pass..
No comments:
Post a Comment