Letters I'll Never Send
Giving an Audience to your Inner Monologue
I thought I’d find the truth.
I don’t know what I’ve found.
I just don’t
Was the truth ever important? Or is the truth whatever we convince ourselves it to be?
Although my feelings are caught in an unending loop and even though you can paint whatever end you want, the heart remains a mystery when the truth we seek is right in front of us yet fleeting.
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