Mar 23


I stare at the letter.
Words that define us.
You've written me many,
but this is the first I have opened.
It begins simply.
I miss you.
Why haven't you replied?
Are you angry again?

Inbetween these lines
lies a future
that I'm throwing away
with each day
of my continued silence.
I know you are sad
that I never write back.
That your life
is untouched
by my pen.
But what would I say?
Don't you see?
Time has changed us,
and my heart
no longer beats
to the tune of our melody.
You pour your heart out
in these letters.
But if I put ink on paper,
my words will not be kind.
I've been losing my mind
one word at a time,
and not even you
would recongize me.
Behind these letters in the back of the closet
lies secrets I keep sealed up
in an envelope with no address.
Please answer my letters.
I've written so many...
why won't you reply?
Are you okay?
I need you to be okay.

I fold up the letter
and put it away
before I can keep reading,
and see your name in print.

You have written me thirty-two letters.
I will not reply
because I won't let you down.
You need me to be okay,
and I am not.