by: Josephine The Great
Going through a collection of “disposable” items I found myself starring at my past, there it was looking back at me, my ex’s letter. It smelled of 2008, the year we had abruptly broken up, the same year all love promises went out of the window or should I say door. and while I had stopped trying to make sense of it a long time ago I knew there was no harm if I just read it. Maybe I had recognized the smell of my own tears on the discolored paper that drove me to it. So, here I was again reading this line by line, plucking away the words with my eyes.