Dear D.,
I was broken, and yet you took me in. My bestfriend, my love. You
delicately took the control out of my hands and showed me how to let
life unfold in front of my eyes. Three years later, away from your
lovely eyes, I am broken again. Ten months have past, and I’m still
picking up the pieces. But I’ve learned to smile every time I pick up
each piece, each memory, each lesson.
Out of sight, out of mind. Red ink for keeps.
T.O.D.
Jaja
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