I want to write you the most beautiful letter, one so perfect that you can’t help but see me. I want to find the words that will convince you to show me your heart, to tell me the pieces you’ve lost and the ones you hope to find.
This is all, of course, a dream because there are no words to undo something that cannot be undone, no lines of poetry that will lift a set mind or change a stone heart.
Is that what you are now? So shattered and empty that you can’t see hope when it’s offered on altars where I sacrifice endless strings of words you will never see?
I bleed and you burn, and we’re both so broken we refuse to use each other’s threads as anchors.
This started as an actual letter but it got a bit poetic. I wonder what he’d think if he received a letter like this instead of my hesitant apprehension he used to read. I’m considering sending another letter. It usually takes me a few months to write and find the courage to send. Maybe this will be a part of it (if it ever happens!). 🙂