letters addressed to the river, i | Teen Ink

letters addressed to the river, i

January 22, 2022
By notesappfiction PLATINUM, Bryan, Texas
notesappfiction PLATINUM, Bryan, Texas
35 articles 0 photos 2 comments

Favorite Quote:
"It's funny. When you leave your home and wander really far, you always think, 'I want to go home.' But then you come home, and of course it's not the same. You can't live with it, you can't live away from it. And it seems like from then on there's always this yearning for some place that doesn't exist." - Danzy Senna


I bleed grief onto cobweb coated memories—

this fuzzy playback is all the proof of you and me,

a  polaroid picture burned at the edges—

time has stolen,

time has ravaged,

time has severed.

 

My sadness aches inside me with a heartbeat of its own;

losing you is a bleeding wound—

stitched and torn

stitched and torn

stitched and tornSunshine boy, knife in hand,

there are still shallow promises of what you owe to me.

Sunshine boy, knife in hand,

did you notice, did you see?

My hand is empty—

you have been set free.

Sunshine boy, knife in hand,

why did you let me go away?

Your promises,

were they always empty?


Restless boy, shear in hand,

was it you who cut the string tying you to me?

Did adventure call to you,

heartbeat drumming?

Careless boy, match in hand,

was it you who set the world ablaze?

Did you smile as the flames grew higher?

Burn down the old,

make way for the new.

Broken boy, noose in hand,

was it you who could not chase the monsters away?

Or was that me—

shaking hands and chattering teeth,

hiding in the tree trunks

from nightmares of my own creation.

Wayward boy, map in hand,

did you think that you would marry me?

I thought that I would marry you—

thought we were for forever.

Thought wrong,

thought again,

still can’t think any better.


Sunshine boy, knife in hand—

fell asleep with you on my mind,

woke up with your hand in mine.

My dreams seem to have forgotten

you are no longer mine to keep.

Sunshine boy, knife in hand,

you are not forgotten—

will never be forgotten.

Sunshine boy, knife in hand.

I bleed grief onto cobweb coated memories—

this fuzzy playback is all the proof of you and me,

a polaroid picture burned at the edges—

time has stolen,

time as ravaged,

time has severed.



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