look_again raze when what we built broke in half, i started spilling ink in a journal with a stiff back and a pretty face. the aim was to write you a letter for every day we were apart. when the book was full, i would give it to you, hoping the weight of the words i filled it with would draw us back together as stronger siblings to our former selves. two days after the end of everything, i wrote: "on my first day without you, everything made me think of you, and half of everything made me cry. the second day hasn't been quite as hard. but i know that's only because a river ran through me yesterday." i wrote for seven days. then sadness turned to anger, some hard truths hammered me with haymakers, and i put my pen away. today i opened the book for the first time in months. a ten-cent coin fell from somewhere deep in its vast toothless mouth. this is what my eyes were scanning when that silver circle slid into my lap: "i keep looking for you in my dreams. i haven't found you yet." i never will. you don't live there anymore. 240609 what's it to you? who go blather from