letters i never meant to send
their pages never torn from spiral-bound notebooks,
protected by cardboard covers
more durable than paper envelopes
never graced by a stamp
self-sticking or otherwise
never read by eyes other than mine
words without direction,
messages without meaning.
cloudy-eyed epistles
waiting for the day someone finally decides
they are fit to burn.
1 comment:
i relate to this.
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