The Letter

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: July 18, 2018

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Submitted: July 18, 2018

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The Letter

Your last letter came in today,
Your syntax attacked me,
Tearing me down.
Each fragment of my body composed of your words,
Every stroke of your pen contradicted the world.
You created a world I fell into,
With wrappings around my eyes,
And knives unknowingly poised at my heart.
You whispered and wrote me into existence,
Helpless to resist the change you instilled upon me.
Each letter I wore as clothing,
Covering my vulnerability with mere paper.
I tried to use your last letter as an umbrella,
Trying to shield myself from the acid rain that poured out of your mouth.
But the letter turned inside out,
What I thought would protect me,
Only erased me.
"My dearest love," snapped the wrappings off,
Your lie "All I've done has been for you" revealed the knives,
Your apologies shredded my clothing apart,
You left me nude and vulnerable.
You took all you've created and turned it into a weapon.
Words that built skyscrapers and monuments,
Now dig graves and establish memorials.
Sentences that lay foundations now are earthquakes,
Rippling through my core.
Paragraphs that gave me a parachute to fall in love,
Now pelicans with beaks that cut wire and tear holes.
Soliloquies that sang music and calmed the tides,
Now create tidal waves,
Crashing the shore like cymbals,
Throwing sand into the air,
Still you maintain your throne.
Owning the world without a price.
Leaving those who hindered you,
Behind to haunt your dreams.
As the sun sets you smile,
As the moon rises I let you go.
I gather the scraps off the ground,
Collecting your lies and words,
Shoving them into a dark leather case,
All the memories under the clasp of an old case.
I fashion new clothing,
A shirt made from the leftover stone of your memorials,
Pants made from the ragged parachute,
Adorned with white feathers.
Shoes from the rocks that were split apart from your earthquakes,
Glasses made from the scorched sand you threw into the air,
A volcano forms from my shaken core.
What you created and destroyed,
Now has transformed into a new being,
A beast that blazes the earth you walk upon,
Forming a new world from the lava that pours out,
A world in which I create my throne out of obsidian,
Melting your golden throne into the earth,
Taking back my dignity,
My throne.

 


© Copyright 2018 Steven Krauss-Akins. All rights reserved.