Love Letter
Perhaps all of this is just a love letter,
the only one I know how to write,
the written words that I could never speak
and that you could never hear.
I write from the hole in my soul
that you carved with incantations
of something that was never love;
you opened my chest cavity and
replaced truth with exhausting
bitterness and wartime memories.
These memories revolve and mutate into dreams
and the cycle happens over and over again.
I am stopping this machine,
ripping its wires apart,
and finding a way back to my heart.
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