Wednesday, January 18, 2012


A letter in my hand
thoughts from me to you
some words inside are blurry
because that's what tears can do
the letter is held like wings of butterflies
delicate and gently between trembling fingers
pain's flame burning a hole in my heart
inside the letter's folds the fire also lingers
"I want what's best for you," it says
"and that means not being with me."
Under weights of all my sorrow
I give you freedom masochistically

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