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Atticus Jun 2019
I left my house again today
                                                                               much like the day before

Followed the trodden path of my memory
to the gates, I swore I would not enter any more

                                                        Your waiting hand was gone like that                                                                    
                                                         of the promises of a father who won't         come home

Grounded in place, the cast iron gate creaked and rattled with a passion that rivalled lovers who live apart

Forgotten I stood in the garden of our hearts
prone and lifeless

Yet I cannot let the letters go
the letters with "return to sender" in vibrant red ink

The letters that once tied us together
one human being connected by a delicate thread like that of spider silk

If I were to let you go and lock the cast iron gate with a heavy rusted padlock
it would mean locking away the parts of my soul that help me feel and connect
when will the yearning I have for you disappear, will it take years?
I honestly don't know.
but the stolen glances we share are an indicator of what we still feel for one another

— The End —