Love Letter

Perhaps all of this is just a love letter, the only one I know how to write, the written words that I could never speak and that you could never hear. I write from the hole in my soul that you carved with incantations of something that was never love; you opened my chest cavity and replaced truth with exhausting bitterness and wartime memories. These memories revolve and mutate into dreams and the cycle happens over and over again. I am stopping this machine, ripping its wires apart, and finding a way back to my heart.