Last Letter

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Tags:
  • Loss
  • ,
  • Sadness
  • ,
  • Death

    Last Letter

    Over-reacting? Selfish and dramatic?

    Not at all when you think of that collects dust in my mental attic

    A brain so full of hurt, heartache, and trauma

    In doing this now, I can stop the drama

    The flame I speak of so very often

    Led me in the dark to my coffin

    Burned out now and cold

    Wick withered, frayed and old

    So many years that candle fought the winds of time

    Withstanding so much abuse, many other forms of crime

    Lovelessly hopeless now I stand

    I can only pray that you’ll understand

    I pray you will find peace

    And in my going, my memory in you, will cease

    All pictures, cards, letters and any other trace

    Anything resembling me you will readily erase

    I now raise the white flag in sign of my defeat

    For the hole in my heart, belly, and mind will never be complete

    I reached out, I grasped for something

    Dangling over the edge, there was nothing

    I did the best I could

    I hung on so much longer than so many would

    Some called me stubborn, I preferred Misunderstood

    When asked how I was I always said fine or good

    The truth now be told

    If my life were a deck of cards I would unhesitantly fold

    The losses I suffered my numbness covered

    Until at night alone, my pain all around me hovered

    My screams smothered by my pillow

    My aura resembling that of a weeping willow

    They say “better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all”

    But they left out the part about how to stay strong and how to stand tall”

    I have had open eyes during my life, nothing other than a 25 years fall

    I shut them tight now as I am ready to smash into wall

    The structure that seperates us from either heaven or hell

    Until we face our judgement, left or right, only time will tell

    Heart dissolving in the acid like substance called grief

    In the this letter I want to say I am hoping to find my much needed relief.

    Empty tears streak my face I will not lie

    Its not easy to say, but I dare say it anyway….goodbye.

     

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    If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.

    Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) American poet.

    AlyssaRose1983’s Poems (13)

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