here are my thoughts
Rasta
My father and I, we had a beautiful relationship. I remember when I was a kid he’d wake me up to go to school he’d walk me to the bus stand. When I was fairly little and almost enjoyed going to school, we’d have about ten minutes of father daughter time before the bus arrived.…
too close.
Two words, “too close.” I wonder what they mean. I don’t understand why you’d use them for us, as we stand two feet apart, barely shaking hands, as if our touching would cause them to burn. Too close? I wonder, on the ride home. Last we met; I remember our hands intertwined, as we stared…
Follow My Blog
Get new content delivered directly to your inbox.
Thoughts 