The Last Letter You Read
I remember the words I wrote;
most of them,
some of them.
Angry scrawls spewing out;
a pen scratching
spitting ink.
Blood from my eyes
attacking the note.
Bourbon spilling
on a pounded table;
the scent of livid indignation
saturating the paper.
Crumpled, tossed,
retrieved, flattened,
torn apart.
Abruptly
stuck together
with yellowed sellotape;
captured fingerprints
and pubic hairs.
The envelope sealed
with a finger
moistened
by bitter tears.
Dropped into a postbox
with smug satisfaction.
Copyright © Terry Miller | Year Posted 2023
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment