For When you fall

 

      Dearest,The day will come when you shall fall. You should think of it now. For when that moment comes, it should be like a knock on your door, deliberate in its intentions.
Except that day you should not expect.
You should feel broken like a 19th century teacup that was used in the gardens of the Rosecliff, sipping tea with the heiress Theresa Alice “Tessie” Fair. I imagined her life was a gift that had its intentions that tore her heart to oceans apart.  The price of gardened privilege I suppose.
When I fell, I vowed to not look out into the solemn, weary world. So I held my own tears Et my pout Et I began a rage of writing. Truth is my mind didn’t let me
rationalize the Empty feeling
of existence. 
But darlings we are all lost.
Some in the past, most intoxicated by the present, a lot lost in what their forever never could be.me?
why if I were lost could  I have spoken to you through my own pen?never. I am not lost, simply reflecting on my journey, for I must stand amidst all the creatures I am not fond of Et I must hold my heart like I don’t feel. But then my words travel many empty endless miles to get to my heart, to my hands,  to then, my torn up vintage linen Paper,To you. For it is you that hath made me, the writer I am,the writer I am softly becoming. Yet I fear that the time will come when they my books shall be read by the world. The big sad troubling world.And yes, you to shall fall.Et when you do, don’t fight to
saddle up,
get back on your horse, holding
your reins, heels down Et chin up.For darlings tomorrow could 🐝 better. 

And we all live to be better.
For better is golden. 

Oui, it is.Your writer,RSPs. I fear that
I loathe reading As of late.I am now 200 pages behind. Oops.
Hastag not focused 

🥴