dear iona georgiana tuta,

it's like we are siblings who travelled to a magical land, who adventured together
we've experienced this, we've come through this together
we're like heroes, like martyrs
like proud people in old photographs
i can picture us, saint poses in holy pictures
we've come out of it marked
and we can't forget, and we don't want to
and it's like a secret, like a journey only we know about
images, words, moves and feelings and sounds we can't share with others because they wouldn't understand, it's like no one knows, no one can understand
it makes us walk in secrecy, running back in our thoughts to what we had
it makes us special, it makes us feel different from the others, distinguished
because our potentials were unlocked, we could use our powers, we could be ourselves, that's what and how we felt
we're like the children that came back out of the wardrobe
we're like a small creature poisoned by a burden it's been carrying, too corrupted to stay, we have to go, we want to go back so bad, we have to leave
we are few points burning brightly on the map, me, you, deni, iva, burning, longing
we can't find us places of our own, we weep when we walk and we cry when we sleep
driven by things, feelings, powers we don't name
and here we are, a conspiracy, plotting how to get back, what to do
it's grey outside, it turns dark, i walk around, i walk in circles
my body moves like it's pushed by little explosions, like it's pushed
[zach condon cancelled my brain today, it's an appetizer before i consume the flying club cup]
we are still young and naive, and we can still use big pathetic words, it's the privilege of our age
we have to go, we have to leave, we must go to new york city