Write As Rea

The happy intersection between what I want to write and what people want to read.

I miss my friends.

It’s been so long since someone understood my heart without an explanation.

My arm is getting tired,

throwing starfish back into the deep.

Am I making a difference?

It’s lonely being left behind on the shore,

when the waves are crashing,

Sea-salt breeze brining my hair.

Eyes fixed on the horizon,

with my feet buried firmly in the sand.

I’m just a little tired.

Maybe when the tide goes out in the morning it will take my melancholy with it.

Hope doesn’t always need feathers to fly.

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