“I am by the window:
Observing rapid snowflakes falling,
On the concrete
Outside this cold apartment,
Without sticking.
I just want to say
That the view makes me think
Of the days and nights
We used to spend cuddling
To keep each other warm;
But that is now a memory
I keep, locked in a room,
Deep inside this melancholic heart.
Dear, I may have contributed more
to your unhappiness and less
to your joy, but I just want to say
You always have a special place
in my heart—
Whether you believe me or not.
I mean it.”
After writing that letter
On a mental paper,
He folded the paper
And then put it in a mental envelope—
Only to mail it to a mental fire
That burned it before
He picked a real pen and paper.
He then just played winter blues,
Waiting for inspiration.
oh the writing and the burning and the heart crying blue…
loved this
mmm….methinks he needs to write the letter for real as his heart is in it…just not the will yet…his longing at loss is palpable….
I love how the subject of this poem is playing the blues and how his “mental letter” sounds like lyrics. I think this would make an excellent song. You are really conveying the loss and ache he is feeling. Thanks for the cool read!
mental fire…how do you come up with this stuff!? great poem !
Reblogged this on elpossible and commented:
Sometimes wish life wasn’t as complicated. Look at these ladies enjoying their life. #Beautiful #Ethiopians #OmoValley #Jewelries