gentle letters

delicate for the keeping

sometimes read bitterly

in the heat of battle

or the cold apathy of absence

which makes the heart grow fonder

he has spoken of living through letters

but sometimes i think he has forgotten of me

because i’m not there in person

and because i am merely a leech

it’s disappointing to find an empty letter

or no letter at all

it happens more often than i would like

depression would turn him away

and it always does

neglected is what i feel

even on a day that is meant to be joyous

it isn’t only him that’s forgotten me

it is everyone i never see

must be convenient to have someone like me around

i’ll listen anytime, leaving you with no obligations

no repercussions

no cause to listen in return, no plea for loyalty

i can help him heal

but he needn’t spend the same effort on me

i cost too much

too much pain is leaking from my pores

some people can smell it on me

and they run away fleetingly

now and then they stay for awhile

but they always run away into their shells

leaving me to build my own home alone

there is a gap between a house and a home

a gap i can’t seem to fill, and although i know this to be real

it isn’t

i am not a human in the usual sense anymore

a void of hunger is left, perhaps never to be filled

one day i will go away forever

and on that day

my trappings will open up and my black oblivion will explode