People like us, can’t do anything right but burn! How naive we were! Expecting the dawn to sun kiss us on the cheek, expecting to harvest moon from a jealous god and a gluttonous sky. I am starving in your absence. People like me know sometimes it’s a feast, but that’s only to prepare you for the fast. I’m gnawing on the discarded bones…
—  Alysia Harris ( 100 sonnets closer to Rittenhouse )
Let me in.

I know things get rough, I get that. And you are the type of person who likes to keep to herself when things don’t go your way. I get that too. But I can’t stop myself from wanting to help you, wanting to fix your problems, wanting to be there. Maybe they are small, but they bother you and that is huge enough for me. Let me in. Now, I’ve realized I can’t fix everything. And I can’t stop problems from coming your way, even though I want too. But I just want you to find comfort in my words, a home in envisioning my presence, relief in knowing that I’m there. You don’t need to tell me everything. But let me in your heart so that maybe having some help (or at least knowing I’m your crutch) will make the stress of problems easier to bear.