All the things I never said and some of what I did
Were in the letter I mailed to you, tear stained
I took the time to seal it well, careful with the pain the letter contained
You never mentioned it, and I was too scared, all my bravery dried up by posting it
I waited for you to call me and say now I understand
But you didn’t and I regretted the words penned by my hand
I found it after you died, there it was, proof that it was received!
But thing was, it was still sealed, I felt deceived.
You never opened it. You never opened me. Did it sear you, giving you notice of all you refused to see?
But what I now can accept to be true, is a letter from me, handwritten, tear soaked, wouldn’t be something that interested you.
I dust it off and put it away. In a pile of things I’ll show my own daughter one day.
About the Creator
Jackie Adams
chronic, acerbic truth teller with memories for days. my hope for writing is to illuminate the shameful, murky parts so they feel loved, come to dance, and make merry.
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Comments (1)
Very powerful beautiful poem!