Dear X, You’re not just the 24th letter of the alphabet. Yes, it’s difficult forming words around you- but maybe that’s because of our history. I hated that subject, by the way. History- stories of truths that were and could’ve led to a whole different lifetime. It’s been lifetimes since I thought about this, but to me you’re not just the 24th letter of the alphabet. No, yours came long before chapter 20, and you were detailed in my book before I even met you. How can I forge

If prison walls could speak Mine would sing sad songs to me They have boxed me in all my life and they would cry their hearts out to me- About how sorry they are… About how they wish they could miss me… They would tell me that they saw too much of me- They would look with pity on me and ask when my captors will set me free. If prison walls could speak I would have endless conversations about how freedom tastes like. I would ask them if their outsides were as gray as

dedicated to everyone with the inevitable internal struggle of fear and courage. Bold woman Scared woman Why won’t you Let your self be loved? Why don’t you Give out some of your love? Are you to scared to love boldly? Do you think it costs too much? you’re an unconventional type. But is that enough reason? Why do you hold yourself back and starve… when hands made from love are begging to feed you? Oh woman Quiet and needy woman Confused yet steadfast woman. Let