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