dear you,
the day you left,
you took a part of me with you.
you stole my journal
and brought with you every pen I owned
stowed away in your bag for safekeeping.
you knew my weakness
knew the one thing that kept me sane
were the words in my head.
scouring the drawers
pacing up and down the halls
in search of just a drop of ink
to spill the words out.
The words started churning in my head
my brain began to overload on rhymes and metaphors that got lost in translation
before they even made it to my mouth.
it became so full it started spilling out
but not on paper; on texts and messages left on seen, 12:47 a.m.
these words were no longer you & i
these words were
You,
and
I.
you must now pick a side.
these words dripped out of my brain like honey
landing on the screen and getting mixed with fire
until all that became of them was something so scathing,
you couldn't help getting burned.
like dripping wax on a letter
to seal it
these words were meant to be
in closing.
sincerely,
