you know what i realize now?
i bet you will be a good mother.
the little things that you did when i was upset or hurt told me that.
the way you stroked my hair running two fingers through it whispering your thoughts on life and it's perfections in my ear. the way you always rubbed soothing circles on my back when something was wrong. but i think what made you seem so motherly was when you told your stories.
you made it sound beautiful.
it was like the way you described a concert.
how the darkness set in before the stage lights lit up the sky, the music thrummed to the rhythm of your heartbeat and the feeling of being so close to other people it was practically suffocation.
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.
