jordynsaelor

I screamed/under the wind

there’s a little brook that falls over a rainbow, and the brook one day asked the rainbow why they kept letting her fall

in these pages

All fates are the same, it seems: whether witch or demon, rabbit or tree, the tones just tell us to

25- so I wrote

so I wrote in here again not for a dead woman from witch school but because I wanted to, for me, and because a

through the air

happiness follows you through the air and sometimes strangers say you find what you’re looking for by not looking; things just

rose

Of course I’ve got my rose-colored glasses on—not having running water

tonight

You wouldn’t believe I left this collection of letters unwritten in for seven years. Because you didn’t have to wait that long

go out

Maybe I’ll fake my death and write nothing else

in there

Maybe the demons would still call me young and brash for my

age

the movers and shapers of the kingdom must be the young: the witches fresh out of school so excited to

24- quiet

I meditated in a shivering desert and slept under an ozone sun, I cried in a broiling jungle and like that time when I began to train Rails–when a pressure