dear claire,
okay, well um. where to start? you’ll probably never read this. in fact, chances are it won’t even reach you. i’m probably just writing this for myself, you know. for therapeutic reasons. i guess i should just say all this stuff. especially by now, but it helps to write things…
One of my closest friends sent this to me when I was in your position. Take note darling.
In the storm Walter Poe
Stands the white rose
tumultuous waves
of destruction abound her
Yet tall is the white rose
strong in the face
Of the sensed doom around her
And she does not bow down
Pure is the white rose
In the compost earth
growing eternal strength
in the nights that so hurt
I see not the white rose
She is so far away
But I long to protect her
But only the words can I say
So I send her my words
And my poets heart
To help her when
there is hope to see her through
Be Strong little flower
Your heart will guide true
And as long as you want
I will always talk to you
