I've been meaning to write this, it just seems I haven't had the time or right mind. I've been meaning to write an apology, but also a letter. A letter of recognition. A writing that turns a soul into literature. I've been meaning to write a collection of various thoughts, gathered to make clusters of ambiguity. I've been meaning to tell you about the things I see. I just haven't had the means or time. I feel people use that a lot instead of just doing things. Anywho, I've been meaning I write this about you. I've been meaning to write about the daisies and fields of fresh air for a very long time. I've been meaning to write about the first time I talked to you and the last time we have talked. I've been meaning to tell you with large, rarely used words that I love you. I just can't seem to find the time.
YOU ARE READING
A collection.
ŞiirA guide into hectic life's of independence, beauty, depression, anxiety, fear, loneliness, love, lust, destruction, women hood, abusive relationships, gays, rape, trust, transgenders, religion, self discovery, resent, distance, family issues and eve...
