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dear basil,

please start drawing again
singing again
please start loving again
and living again

please start writing again

<3,
basil
drink ur love life juice :))

19.06.2021
Love,
So many dreams that you have sold,
But i was afraid of losing faith,
Because there was a possibility
That you would save me before it was too late,

Love,
Ever since the first moment you caused me pain,
I realized that im the one to blame,
Ive been called "baby" so much that  I forgot  my own name,
It took pain to realize that I've lost my way,

Love,
These growing evils have made you feable,
We just don't understand you like our forefathers did,
To us you're just an emoji,
but them you were a symbol,

Love,
You have  endured time, ignorance and war,
we are slowly losing you as a norm,
it is in your absence  that evil is born,
Please stay and help us reform,

Help us
Copyrighted ©️written by Ntando Ndlela. All rights reserved. Letter to love
rig Jun 3
ps
by candlelight i write a feeling,
a tattooed secret onto parchment
on its fourth life – it’s simple enough:
h███ ██↋█ █f███_
that is all – nothing else is needed.
then i sign at the bottom, fold the
letter twice, carefully place it in
a yellowed envelope, seal it shut –
and i feed it to the flame, wishing.
selina May 13
t/w: violence, death

-

dear little miss dreamer
i'm sorry i couldn't write to you sooner
but yesterday night, i've read all three
each and every one of your letters

your mother sounds lovely
a brave woman, from what you've told me
if your brother comes by downtown
tell him, he's welcome to visit me

you have some big dreams
and i hope i can help them come true
i'm sorry i've been so busy
but i would truly love to meet you

you remind me of my wife
of her dreams when she was your age
we grew up together in the center city
like you, she was wise beyond her days

i agree, we need to help kensington
and we've begun taking some small steps
i'm pushing for a new bill to pass
but it'll still take some time to prep

i know you mentioned drugs and violence
and yes, i agree, it's completely true
please stay safe and stay inside
it could help protect you

actually, that just reminded me about kensington
my wife had told me some shocking news
a mother murdered at her kitchen counter
a little girl, shot, in the same view

i think she was writing a letter, too
but i don't quite remember who exactly to
it was titled, i think, "dear mister life-changer"
wait, it couldn't be— no, God, please, not you—
this is the second poem that continues the story in the previous one. the congressman send his reply, but... it's a bit too late now
selina May 13
please note: t/w: violence

-

dear mister life-changer
how have you been?
i know you never answer
but i wanted to try again

introducing myself for the fourth time
i'm a small girl with big dreams
my dad walked out when i was real young
my mum hopes i'll have an easier living

i'm in kensington, philly
it's not a nice place to grow up
with drugs, gangs, and guns
my older brother once even got mugged

i'm writing from my little closet
my mum said it's for me to be safe
but i hate being alone in this place
it's such a small, empty space

a couple of gunshots outside
it's like this every other night
brother's not home right now
but i sure hope that he's alright

there's a clicking noise
it doesn't sound very nice
i hear footsteps down the hall
they're not mum's, they're too light

mister life-changer, i think that might be my brother
he told me you could make things right
but why don't you ever write back to me?
why don't you ever reply?

i want to tell you my dreams
i heard you can make them come true
just give me one chance, sir
it's worth it, i'll show you

i dream of a big wide world
where i can walk outside and not be afraid
a world big enough for every little brown girl
to skip down sidewalks and enjoy the day

i hope to move to the suburbs
buy a big house for mum one day
buy her leather bags and pretty dresses
and not a single cent she'll have to pay

-

dear mister life-changer
i'm sorry there's blood on this paper
mum's bleeding out in the kitchen
someone shot her at the counter

mister life-changer
they told me to wait
i called the life-savers
they said, just wait

i don't know what to do
so now i'm back to writing to you
will you ever make a change?
will you tell me to wait, t—
wrote this poem that's a bit like a letter. context: a little girl living in kensington, philly, one of the most dangerous places in philadelphia, writes a letter to the congressional representative of her district. it's cut off at the end, and if i could, i would have added the sound effect of a loud gunshot. i think you would then understand how the story in this poem ends...
dear basil,

just because a feeling doesn't go away
doesn't make it valid

persistence means nothing if it's going the wrong direction

love,
basil
maybe this is for u too, lovely. and also water. water is for u <3

04.05.2021
finn May 3
The letter lies there, on the desk.
"I wish I could fly," it says.
there is no signature
the edges are crumpled
the envelope is too small
the ink is a bright orange, the last letter smudged
but he wants to fly.

He wants to fly.

So it's all I can do to give him a lift.
lua Apr 29
my words
might wash up
against your shore
in torn up shreds
each scribbled letter faded
obscured by time
obscured by rippling waves
that thrash and tear
each piece left vague
dowsed in mystery
and a lingering
a longing
to be read

soon
maybe
next time
i'll be mature enough
to put them in a bottle.
Datore Fargo Apr 22
Hello again,
it’s been too long.
I apologize,
you see,
somehow I lost,
not just my words,
but also my pen.
Maybe you can,
begin to understand.
Love,
Me.
This is the third poem in the dear you series. This series is based on a series I wrote 10 years ago about the first boy I was ever loved.
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