Let your words pile up
like laundry on the floor;
don't sweep crumbs of thought onto a page
I won't read the letters anymore.
I can quote the prescribed verse
that trails behind the apology:
"trust me, that man before,
those words, those lies,
they just weren't me."
You'll say a second chance is a simple gift
and you’ll imply that it's your due,
but a second chance is an atomic bomb
that coats my heart in toxic residue.
Don't calligraphy your love
hoping I will break;
peel the stamps off your envelopes,
Your letters I won't take.