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Dear lonely isle,

I don't know why, but somewhere inside, in a corner of what must be my heart, I ache. There's a little empty space that just can't be filled. A hole in the heart. When I put my eye to the hole, I can see right through me, and out the other side. It's not entirely sadness, neither is it pain, but it's just there. Just an empty spot, right here.

Only you can fill it.

love, joyce.