Screen Shot 2014-03-08 at 1.43.48 PMThe only place that I can admit how I feel about you is in the binder full of problems and desires beneath my bed

Tatered papers of loose leaf chaos fill the binder. A broken dictionary that makes it impossible to find the right words sits on my desk.

My life is a cluttered yet organized room that looks like it belongs to a child, teenager, and an elderly person all at the same time. With watercolor paintings of dragons, a map of all the places I need to be, and drawings, letters, songs, hanging on the walls. Beneath it all, the bed. And beneath the bed the place where I hide all of my treasures.

Hushed whispers recite lines from this place. Sometimes in my mind & other times aloud. Filling the empty room with music where silence should be.

My binder screams to be heard, but is never listened to.


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