Writing Letters Is a Dying Art

Dear Sir: I realize you’ve been busy, so I’m sending a letter of distress Postmarked today, addressing my quality of living Since the last time we told our life stories Sewed the seams between our broken dreams and Seen the world through the eyes of the needle Tiny and volitional Since our foggy self-destruction, Misplaced priorities and miscommunication On every lonely person’s face, I see my own Reflected in the spaces between our parallel lines That should be meeting at Infinity Please send me a post card when you get there I want to know what Love looks like I keep Doin’ and doin’ and doin’ my thang Stacking up that green and Piling on the makeup between each scene Stealing hearts and pulverizing them with each time I blink You know… All those honest ways of making a living Collapse into bed every night only to close my eyes And be haunted by dark thoughts of you Urgently and Daftly my pen Spills raven-hued rivers of devotion Onto this piece of paper Hoping to soak into you Dear Sir, To get to the heart of my request Open the ocean to me The dark sea of your deceit Drown me deeply in your lies and suffocate me with your Transparent desperate pleas Dear Sir, cure me of this loneliness Charge me of suicide and let me crash into you Kamikaze Lovers I understand the risk I'll take my chances Openly armed and ready for the world In those intense brown eyes Stopping my breath and caving in To see the world so clearly again Awaiting your response to my confessions Sincerely, Me