I wish I lived in my sketches

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(i) I stole a flower and then the flower died. 

(ii) I didn’t want to throw it away. I did anyway.  

(iii) I only speak in whispers but I hate it when other people do that. 

(iv) The last time I had to sleep to the ticking of the clock, I didn’t. I took out the batteries and put the clock in another room.

(v) I’ve always wanted a Van Gogh painting in my room. 

(vi) I make sketches of all the things I know I cannot have. 
I sketched your heart. 
It beats on paper. 

(vii) I tore all my sketch books last night. 

(viii) I’m not sorry. 
I know I should be. 
But I’m not.



(ix) I have so much to say and all these words keep spinning around in my head until I write them down in the letters I never write to you. 
Letters I post without an address to be delivered to.
Letters I collect stamps for.

(x) I have a beautiful stamp collection. 
I’ve never used a single stamp. 

(xi) I’ve always wanted a beautiful stamp collection. 
I wish I had one.

(xii) I sketch myself a beautiful stamp collection and put it up on the wall next to the Van Gogh painting I don’t have. 

(xiii) I clear out my trash. Your heart shattered into pieces when I tore my sketch but it still beats like nothing happened. 
Maybe nothing ever did.

(xiv) my heart beats like nothing happened. 
I like to pretend that nothing did. 

(xv) I sketch my heart on paper and hope it beats there. 
It has to beat somewhere. 
_I wish I lived in my sketches. 
emm
13/03 

#lettersfromemm