ThisIsMyLetterToTheWorld

Prologue: The memories

There were memories. 

Vague ones, but memories nonetheless.

Growing up is scary

So far I don’t like it all that much

I am expected to know

What I want to be in perfect detail

I have to learn how to drive

Without being afraid of the big trucks

marshmallows cracked black 

with gooey innards showing like majestic guts

sickly sweet and soft like a lullaby

drawing me in with the promise of joy

I'd survive on an island, 

Just me and my thoughts. 

I wouldn't be as lonely as you'd think.

I'd keep myself company

With merely three things:

A candle, paper, and ink.

In quiet isolation,

Who would have thought 

That flesh and skin

Could portray how I feel 

And shape how I think so perfectly?

Every song has a story

Every song has a vibe

A feel

A fleeting moment attached