there is this
tightness in my chest.
a thick,
painful stone
lodged in my throat.
don't mind my handwriting, T
my hands
they are shaking.
but i have to do this
i have to write.
just
shit.
i cannot stop my tears
from smudging the letters.
but,
never mind.
i have to do this
i have to write
to let it out
let it all out.
my pain
in the form of letters.
do you remember the letter
in which
i told you, i will
tell you about hotarus?
i will
now.
the japanese believe that
when their loved ones are gone
they become fireflies.
giving away the littlest light, you need
not to go back home
but
the kind of light that would
make you want to
stand and watch.
give you that feeling of tranquility
and
at home.
those hotarus are sign of
passioned love and
undying affection.
both, which i have lost.
and that emptiness in my heart
gags at my throat
spreads through my entire being and
tears threateningly at every cell
of my existence.
it claws at my heart,
making my eyes bleed tears that
still fail to dissolve in it
all my pain.
do you know the
feeling of
waking up every morning
with the hope of
not being able to,
the next day?
isn't it
good to be able to
talk to someone,
to you, who
wouldn't judge me, because
you don't hear me
at all?
maybe, after all
you're the only one who listens
and
still isn't.
YOU ARE READING
y o u
Poetryi've never breathed more, as i have around you, but breathing in the same air as you, was suffocating enough to make me want to stop. but, love, you can't just stop breathing like that, can you? [in which, she writes letters to him, letters tha...
