Coming Home

Dear you,

Lately your words are tickling the back of my throat. You’re holding back and mustering up all the strength in your being to not speak to me, but you want to. Your voice is on the tip of my tongue. I swear if I tapped in a little deeper your thoughts would come through my mouth. We haven’t spoken in some time, but I hear you loud and clear.

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Adjust Your Sails

Adjust Your Sails

You must grow strong enough to love the world, yet empty enough to sit down at the same table with its worst horrors. ― Andrew Boyd