Letter To The Breathless

...one never read.

This was made for you.

Words, one after the other

Organized or scattered,

Musings from a disconcerted heart

trying to outrun each other

All in order to reach you.

Words made from letters,

Letters having no mother other than this torture

That cuts like hardened ice in the winter;

My fingers becoming a residence for blisters as I ceaselessly clutch this literary weapon

Useful for nothing but murder,

A crime playing the rescuer

As it will save me from this death

Which I’ve unknowingly inhabited.

 

This is my letter.

 

Addressed to you, no doubt.

I might have used my mouth but I forget to not stutter

Not because I am nervous or flustered

But there truly is no pattern of thought laid out by this hurt.

I’m clueless of its source and it’s mode of entry;

But it did get in and is now filling a huge space I never even knew was empty

And now, tense, my veins strain against my skin

 As though electricity ran through my being

Like the occupier of an electric chair

But the worst part of all this

Is after sending you this piece…

You were not there.

 

Absent before I thought to look.

Knowing of what I only wish I understood,

Aware of an event to proceed

Yet took I for granted all these

Because that inner voice I failed to heed.

Time and time again.

Ignoring the promptings by which I should have been led

Allowing the nothings fill my head;

See I thought everything would stay in line

That you would patiently wait until I had time

-but by the time i gave attention to that voice whispering in mind

Before I got through asking the ‘what’ and the ‘why’---

Before the foreign language of obedience was translated

I wrote you this letter,

But you already were dead.

Author's Note

A colleague of mine passed away. For a while i felt like there was more i could've, should've done that probably would have changed the turn of events.
The truth is, there really wasn't...but i beat myself up about it anyway.

Reviews

[Opeyemi Jide-Ojo]

i should scream with delight, but as it's rather solemn i'll whisper: it's awesome. can i share your muse?

[Kwiksie Ifediora]

by all means good friend. :)

[Rita L. Sev]

Letters having no mother other than this torture
That cuts like hardened ice in the winter...

These are poignant and vivid lines. We think we have control over another's fate, when we do not... A strong, expressive piece, Kwiksie.

[Kwiksie Ifediora]

#sigh, yes we do Rita. how silly it is when we make such assumptions isn't it?
Thank you for reading.

[MoriartyMesa]

But it did get in and is now filling a huge space I never even knew was empty

And now, tense, my veins strain against my skin


What Muse took this writer?

[Kwiksie Ifediora]

the loss of a dear acquaintance...thank you for stopping by. :)

[Kwiksie Ifediora]

thanks dicey...i didn't expect it either. ;)

[dicey jones]

Aha!!! Now who expected such an ending...
Magnificento

[Kwiksie Ifediora]

thanks so much dicey. :)

[Kwiksie Ifediora]

thank you ruthie, i appreciate it. ^_^

[Ruthie Igunbor]

the end takes one by surprise. well done hun!

[Kwiksie Ifediora]

thank u ruthie!! :*