Dear lover,

I finally found the foundation I thought I’ve lost at your grandmother’s house during the summer,
It was where you told me it was,
Inside my luggage indeed.

Along with many other things that I haven’t seen in a while such as
My guitar pick,
My jewelry,
My camera,
Your hoodie,
My hoodie really.
My hair brush,
My seashells from Revere beach,
And a bunch of pictures from us that I never wanted to throw away and I never will.

I put them all in a drawer next to my bed,
The drawer closest to my head,
The drawer that I never open because there is a valentines day card turned upside down,
I refuse to see the massage.


- Dear friend,

I haven’t called you in a while and I’m sorry I disappeared,
I don’t want to bring you down with my depression,
I just don’t think I should add anything else to your plate,
And I’m sorry if I did.

I think I made a mistake,
And I need your help,
But I don’t want your help,
Because I don’t deserve it.

I hid the keys from my drawer and I forgot where I put them.

Now I don’t have access to my most valuable items,

They’re not lost,
I never lost them,
I never threw them away,
And never will,

I just can’t reach them.
I can’t reach to you either,
That’s funny.


- Dear guy that follows me on Instagram,

Your pictures really attract me,
I know that beautiful things can start with just one like,
So I liked all your pictures,
And you liked all mines back,

Is this going somewhere?
Should I slide to through the DMs
A simple "hello?"
A concerning “How are you?”
A heartbreaking “Hey”
A disappointing “I’m sorry”

And that’s why I never wrote back,
And never answered the calls,
And made sure that you knew that I wasn’t going to,
And I didn’t
But now I am.


- Dear stranger,

I love how we vibed for the shortest
And I think that’s a sign for us to vibe longer.

Wanna hang some time?

And if you don’t want to that’s fine,
I get it…

I don’t.
I don’t get it.

I want to hang out with you,
I want to be with you,
I want to be able to like your pictures and not feel that I’m annoying you,

And I want to be able to feel something beautiful when you upload a new picture.

Instead of feeling a sinking hole form right in the middle of my rib cage
,
Swallowing my heart and my bones,
Feeling that they're poking my lungs,
And ripping them apart.

I can’t breath because you’re gone,
You’re not the guy that follows me on instagram anymore,
So I can’t call you that,
And you don’t want me to reach out to you,
And I want your help,
And just your help,
Because you’re the cause of my mistake.

I can’t call you a friend,
Because friends don’t let other friends cry on their own,
And they’re not cold when they go to the hospital for attempted suicide,
They’re not cold when they beg them to not hang up the phone,
They’re just not cold.
And you are,

And it’s my fault.


- Dear stranger,

I found the keys to my drawer.
I’ll send you back your hoodie.

She sat there with her rusty voice box, a  drought on her tongue and a pen aching to flood the pristine sheet with blue ink.
She poured pain into words of refuge and tucked the love etched memories into words.
She wrote to the ones she loved, who made her heart beat ever so intensely. For who rooted her strengthening her spine with courage. For the ones who betrayed, abandoned and hurt making her swallow sorrows whole on empty stomach.
She undressed her truth as she painted shades of past, resurfacing the suppressed from the dustiest parts of her mind, reigniting the dying embers. As she wrote thoughts screamed to be heard, memories weeped to be replayed as she crafted sentences, paragraphs, beginning and ends, sunrises and sunsets; the breathing of her heart allowing her to feel a sense of relief.
But she never sent them, for they were riskier to be read by them than to be tucked safely away.

When I write to you,
I imagine you are laying in my bed
reading over my shoulder
I think that maybe you would be
sad to know how hard my life can be
You would rub my arm
Proclaiming "How dare she talk to you like that"
Or "You're better than that new boy"
Sometimes you apologize for hurting me
Or sit in silent solidarity for the hole in my chest  
Today I watched the you that is never actually here
count my veins and arteries perfectly arranged on the floor
Turned to me "Why do you hate me?"
I told you I could never
You hold the vein that belongs in my hip
"This is where you loved me, where my thumb fits,
where I held you"
The vein is empty
I ask what you expected, you left me months ago
Your eyes make me want to apologize
I ask if you still love me
But, you are always gone before I get an answer

Sometimes I wake up drunk on daylight's dawn, sending you my intoxicated love letters through brisk mourning air, grieving everything we couldve been.