Are you feeling weak
and helpless?
Is your resolve crumbling,
little chunks
cascading down
your rough facade?
Do your fingers tremble
as they hold my words,
the ones you keep meaning
to throw out?
Does water spring
from your brown eyes,
clouding your thoughts
as well as your vision,
as you remember
how it was to be loved
with abandon?
Music plays
and your heart cracks
a little more,
the fissure
exposing the raw nerves
of a missing
that won’t abate
or recede
with the space created
by time and distance
between past and memory.
How is your strength
now that you know
what you’ve lost?
Do your muscles ache
with the resistance
that it takes
to forget
the unforgettable?
loveletterstoaghost
Writing letters I can never send
