To my favorite poet.

How alone are you write these poems?

How alone am I to read them in the dark and cry?

I wish I did not relate to the imagery, the sensation and emotions but I cannot help it.  I’m immersed in your pain, your abandoment, your bitter happiness, your truth, your hope.

I don’t know who you are, or what you are dealing with.

I’m just a distant reader. But I felt many of these things before.

The alienation. The fatigue. The detachment.

But this is part of life right?

This is connection. Some of us connect through laughs, through conversations, through poetry.

I would be lying if I said that your poetry doesn’t make me cry.

But it also makes me feel alive.

Keep writing. Keep evolving.

I support your journey.

Forever a fan.

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