Lulu_D

Dear YWP, 

The first time I wrote you a letter I was 13. 

The second, 15. 

I'm 18 now; how time flies, my lovely people. 

And this is the last letter. 

I’m from a place of heritage 

Nationalities blending in the air

I’m from a place of buildings 

Reaching towards the sun

I’m from a place of rain

Where the sun is a legendary occurrence

I can not figure out how to delete 

If it weren't for the sky, I’m not sure where we’d be. 

The sky can never be us, we are not the passing clouds, but 

I’m most likely

To climb a mountain

And not want to go back down.

I’m most likely

To say things I shouldn’t

And not regret them

i love writing. 

i loved writing.

until i started thinking.

for me, writing was my everything, i think

my way to an escape, my way to a love story, my way to another life.