Letter #15

Letter #14

Hands sinking from this intrinsic weightlessness These contradictions spill out of me With every rhythmic throbbing of the arteries As though it were inherently innate to lose reason Reluctancy claimed it's vested right to my chest The thought bringing it all into perpetual deliberation An impending consequential end to touch Like a clock continuously thrust into resetting Hands disheveled, scraping, tired Sinking.

Date Written: 20th of August, 2023

“It’s about who you miss at 2 in the afternoon when you’re busy, not 2 in the morning when you’re lonely.”

— Unknown

And we weren’t us anymore

Cole A.

Sometimes I think to myself my heart must smell the same as my room, full of smoke and blood and air thick with the sickly sweet fragrance of regret. Maybe if these wrists drip a little more, my inner child will learn what it means to win.

A victory.

A reward.

A choice.

I hope peace tastes like the clarity I've only known to last in the quieter seconds, where a favourite song plays and suddenly the rain doesn't drip quite as heavy as before. Where you're standing at a crossing next to someone and they smile at you and say "I like your t-shirt", and flustered you say back "I like your tattoos, thanks" and go your separate ways when the lights change.

Both better, neither changed.

Where you look in the mirror to see the face you haven't felt close to in years, no longer cracked.

A ghost's perfect portrait.

Date Written: 28th of October, 2023

Letter #23

On Spring's first morning

I lied down,

Let my feet touch the grass,

Released a year's long breath

And starred straight into the sun

Because if my body will not cry on it's own

Then I will have the light guide me to it

Every tingle of wholeness finally meeting

All combining into one unifying chorus,

"This is the end and beginning of my life"

Nothing else that ever was or will be,

No lover's touch, no teachable moment

Only this, this is it. I made it home at last

Date Written: 16th September 2023

Letter #6

"You really hurt me." Fuck, I wish I could say that to you. I want to tell you "I wished you were better" And hear you say "I'm sorry." like you mean it. My love of you is a laceration across my chest Visible to everyone who meets me, Stinging at every change of the winds. It likes to bleed out at night. The kitchen sink is stacking higher, Soon the laundry pile will join. Sometimes I still see your ghost in the mirror, Staring back at me with empty eyes. I guess I'm in another one of my rutts again It just all feels so pretentious and aimless "You really hurt me, but I hurt me more." The truth is a harder pill to swallow.

Date Written: 10th of August, 2023

Instead of yellow paint

Maybe I'll eat bluebells

To caress a midnight sky

Perhaps a poppy-scented saint

Can somehow save my cells

Giving all this weight a soft goodbye

A tulip tastes the taint

A promise that quietude quells—

Spring will someday kiss me with a sigh

Letter #3

You're a toxin, a poison built to dissolve the lives of everyone you touch with that deformity of an organ you call a heart. Avert your gaze and ignore your texts, decline any sense of desperation you use to cling to those who're above your station. A lowly imperfection so intent on infecting any mercy you're shown, what wilting flower wouldn't weep given the chance to witness such a pathetic display of insecurities. Be grateful you are not yet eradicated, For time and the likes of you do not cross kindly. A childish fool, you were never worthy of humanity. To: Myself "With love - whatever that means."

Date Written: 6th of August, 2023 Words I had written to myself after a mental lapse.

Self-inflicted guilt laces my lungs with tar, it gets so hard to breathe. Sometimes I wonder if everyone feels this weight in their chests all the time, heavy with doubts and hesitations. I'm sure even the most put together people have things that bring them down when it gets quiet, which is sad to think about. All beauty needs to be broken before it blooms, but wouldn't it be lovely to simply indulge in peace for once? To quell the heartbreak inside is something special, I can only hope I may one day join the people who have found their rest from all of the emotional aches. Idk, i'm tired. it's all a lot.

Letter #25

I tried to study the art of being remarkable, but by the end of it I found I had become the most boring man alive.

Date Written: 21st of September, 2023

Letter #26

She didn't know how to rest yet Hadn't learnt the point of growing up Curled lips and big bright eyes Vein attempts at masking her truth She built palaces with her words Enrapturing swarms with pretty lies Answer "I'm happy" in earnest when asked Naive to knowing emptiness isn't meant to fill If only charms didn't cost her a sense of self When rose coloured glasses lose their hue Tell me, what else is a young girl to do? She'll learn the lesson of life eventually Little by little, day by day, Time will tell every tale that shall come Each rose petal guiding her forward The future will change her pace Discovering what it means to slow down Dream in something other than clouds Her mind knew not of certainty No shining knight, no protective shield Mercy found only beyond towering walls As their creator, she shall soon be their end But refusing destruction beyond herself There is only so much a tender heart can mend A limbo she lives, hopelessly hopeful Spinning until she becomes spun So for now, let youth recklessly take her It's not a lesson you can teach her She has to learn it on her own

Date Written: 23rd of September, 2023