Letter of Correspondence

This piece was inspired by some lines borrowed from another poem.

I don’t care how depressed you are,

I’m not coming to your party.

Granted, I’m no expert in the craft of bartending,

but I have this natural inclination to believe that

cheap tequila and Prozac don’t mix too well,

Nor do midnight tears and your desperate attempts

to relight the embers long ago drowned by your

relentless waves of unrealistic expectations

and your idealistic ignorance

I care not for your pleas or your empty promises

that this time will be different or that you’ve changed

You’ll have better luck ringing the doorbell on a coffin.

Knock all you like - no one’s coming to the door