J. Boogie, When I wasn’t much older than you are right now you might find me, on any given ‘every-other-weekend’, wandering the daunting hallway at my dad’s. I’d hang a sharp right and burst, unannounced, through the door to his bedroom and there he’d be, on his knees like I’d seen him before in the(…)
Letters To J.
My thoughts, as they tumble forth, primarily with J in mind.