06/23

Alas, Sir..

Thank you for reading my text.  Excuse my lethargy.  It’s quite early Thursday morning.  I have eaten, consumed fluids, showered, gotten dressed for the day and rehearsed this intro in my head dozens of times to make sure I get it right, already.

Will you please skim today’s tragic output, may it echoe romance, dedication, occasional selfishness, outreach, caution, fear, softness, personal relevance and defensiveness to deliver eager whims I am still a bit too shy to admit to yet?  Will you please reword it?  Substitute better, more truthful language to more accurately illuminate the tears that feel too heavy to hold back.  Please.
Walking on shattered glass hurts my feet and undoubtedly dials down any and all built up layers of confidence.  Stronger walls have fallen, giants annihilated, marathons journeyed, destinies arrived at and voices acknowledged.
Misinterpreting deafening silence seems to be a strength of mine.  Sneaking onto taped off grounds automatically instills a sense of trespassing in me.  Even occasionally veering from the guarded path often leaves me speechless and too afraid to move a muscle.