My Dear Nobody,
The long-gone
leaves dart around me
and I try to catch them,
from my position on the aged swingset.
There aren't any pine trees
Like there was
In the before.
Creak
The old abandoned swingset
mutters agreement
to my thoughts and disagreements
in that tone that would annoy me
In the before
Crash
There goes my emotions
My tears
My mind
And my memories
Of the before.
YOU ARE READING
My Dear Nobody,
PoetryToo long for a journal entry, too short for a story. My dear Nobody, these letters are addressed to you.
