i remember when you first told me about the voices.
and how they tempted you, telling you how luscious the grass looked as you strained your worthless ( eyes to work, too see. they did, just not the whole board. just not the part that mattered most to you.
just not the colour.
you told me her name was jasper.
you didn't know what would possess your mind to conjure up a voice of a girl named jasper but then again you always said everything in your life was different.
from your screams in the night, i could tell she was sure different.
maybe too different for even you to handle.
was she?
i hope not.
since everything different about you always seemed to be a struggle.
wyatt
YOU ARE READING
unequivocal.
General Fictionnight and day our fears and dreams, different but equally as captivating. these our your letters you never got to read enda.
