Letter never to be sent to G — content mine though inspired by a wonderful writer friend

You, more than anyone, possess the good facility to comprehend what others could not.
You who, no doubt, possess the proper sight to view me across another planet. You, who might provide clarity from this paradoxical existence I’m trying to set free.
You whom my heart and mind demand to understand why I need your constant affection.

Because, my friend, I’m one of the handful you know that had been molded by the fierce elements that move the sun, the moon and the stars.

I could dart high above the ground, barrel against the strongest wind, turn up the sun’s heat by a single desire burning inside me.
Fueling this drive to experience and to pen about the prominence of heavenly romance, of one mythical man dropped from above — stemming in knowledge what isn’t easy to love; defending my repeated need to write in absolute audacity with no meaningful purpose — begetting zero obligation, zero responsibility, zero sensibility.

Often I catch myself in recall of all those strong bad beautiful men that had chained me in my past, sustaining me for my deviant propensities, unfitting fantasies, wild infatuations.
Which makes me think maybe, maybe I’ve rightfully earned those betrayals after all.

Oh how I’ve loved and lived yet still feel undone.
Unendingly opting towards that higher ground —

greater than my passions,
lesser than my sins,
equalizing them all to a redemption I somehow feel I deserve.

And you’ll be here or there somewhere, standing still, outside of any judgment, while we trade in words for comfort, friendship, and care.
I’ll come to you, and press my head against your chest, my heart within your hands, unable to speak… nevertheless serene to know I am, in a good way, home.


—geena, (my pen name), aug 13 2021


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