Letters to you


1. Letter (I)

Dear you,

How can I give up on you, when you were so lovely and we used to understand that we’d never understand each other? And how can I walk away, knowing that you’ll curl up next to me when I take shelter somewhere else, shivering reproachfully but not letting me get close enough to touch you?

That was my heart you misplaced; that was me, and it doesn’t go away or stop hurting and it won’t scab over or stop bleeding. I tell myself that you can’t be that careless, that heartless— but you are.

I would just like to take a moment to explain that you are all lungs: even though you keep gasping and gasping for air you’re turning blue and you will be dead soon.

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