An open letter to the one i love

Lili 11:03 AM lili , poetry , read the fluffing disclaimer and ask yourself if j.k. rowling ever met a wizard or if stephen king ever got killed by a clown No comments

I’ve been asking myself what I miss the most

and how to describe the feeling of loss

that’s pumping through my veins,

replacing the blood that used to make me human and alive,

now i'm just a pile of misplaced memories, rotting regrets and burning books of untold stories.

Watch me burn the home down we built together,
watch me burn the letters,

watch me burn.

Today I tried to eat breakfast, like the three days before,

but failed, I watched the butter melt on the toasted bread

and I had to throw it away every time,

because I couldn’t stand the thought of more things disappearing.

I want to describe it in pretty pictures of dying butterflies

that are stuck in my ribcage,

but I’m just throwing up caterpillers.

I’ve painted a graveyard in bright pink and baby-blue on my stomach, whose future memories are we really burying here -

beneath all the new phone numbers and cookie crumbs,

inbetween his sheets and my legs -

yours or mine?

An open letter to the one i love,

because you have never given me your new address:

I don’t know where you are

but neither do you,

I can remember where we’ve been

but you forgot where we wanted to go,

I’m not sure where I am

but you know i'm not in your heart anymore.

I found a hair from you on the piece of lifeless cotton

where I rest my head at night to dream about you,

but it lost it’s colour like the leaves on the trees,

and I haven’t been able to rest since you left,

I have to grow up and learn to sleep with out the lights on,

but I’m afraid of growing old alone in the darkness.

_________________________________________________________________________________

DISCLAIMER:

Don't assume that this is about you or her - this isn't even about me.

it's about feelings and situations, captured in temporary chapters of an unwritten story,

this is nothing but fiction and i'm the storyteller.

This is about an idea, this is art,

remember, this might be inspired by things i experienced or witnessed or felt once myself,

but it has nothing to do with my personal life

and this is not a diary.

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