annayesuh
There are pages of the story scattered everywhere. Was it even bound in the first place? I'm not sure.
I have no calling. Is that possible? To be passionate about these things, but not have them call to you. I don't know what I'm doing with my life, or what is calling me forward.
A tree trunk is lonely
Without our initials carved
So tenderly into its flesh.
You did that for me.
Now years later, the tree dies slowly
But our story remains in its rings.
Like an old and dusty record found
in an attic. Long forgotten.
The music just the same.
I have many trunks.
Some hold secrets
And all have stories.
I give you the key.
Keep it safe and hidden,
for no one but you and me.
writing since 2012 · 8 entries · 7 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Anna showed up.
1longest streak
7days written
0.2entries / week
the words Anna reaches for
pastelkeytreestoryheadbuzzannoyingcallingmouthloveneoncomplimentdespitewonderfulwordssmiles