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Letters, Chains
His letters
Notes folded with care
Once I treasured them
Now I wonder why
I read them again
With hope
For affection, warmth, a glow
But I only read formality
The urge
To tear them
To throw them out the window
Consumes me
But as my fingers
Follow my urge
I freeze
As realisation sinks in
I can't
It won't go
He's still with me
And these are my chains.
Can I let go
Of what I've been holding onto
For so long?
Will there be a day
When those notes will tear
When my chains will break
And set me free?
---
Note:
written end of '99, when my relationship with Spooky was on hideously rocky terrain. We
had communication problems so bad that we'd write letters and sneak them to each other,
even though we were in the same class. I actually never really loved him, the
giddiness I felt when we were together was the cloud nine I was on, because I realised
that someone loved me.
To add to the terrain climb (or descent) I met Mac, who inspired me enough to see that I
didn't need someone I didn't love to feel loved.
By the way, the letters were burnt (lol).