Unsent Letters

My dearest,

I’m not sure what you mean by “you have changed.”

Before you, I was unhappy, exhausted with living,

Before you, I was cruel, for nothing made me happy,

Before you, I was contemptuous, fear calloused into cruelty,

Before you, I was alone and afraid, and so hid it with contempt.

Before you, I welcomed death, because then I wouldn’t be alone.

But for you to be gone because “I have changed”

What could that mean?

Am I more attractive broken, like a puzzle to be formed?

How strange that After so resembles Before,

Like a reset button.

Or a letter never sent.


4 thoughts on “Unsent Letters

    1. The finest inspiration should, in some way, destroy you as a person, leaving behind someone a little more and a little less of who you were before. Thank you for the comment, I was delighted to see it.

      Liked by 1 person

    1. It’s one thing to stop oneself from saying something and another to not have the opportunity at all. But it’s relatable, yes? There’s a strange power in putting into words those things we think in crippling silence.


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